hellorhighwater | [GENESSIA] Inbox

NEIL BLAIR
Black Fire of the Night Dragon
Kingslayer
Dragon Mage

(Spillover for threads, muse contact, mun contact--circle all that apply.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

fondofapples

"Exploding into flames at the slightest provocation?" Her eyebrow lifted in an faux-scandalized arch quite at odds with how brazenly she held his gaze. "I hadn't noticed." But she released his gaze to press a sweet, warm kiss over his heart.

She turned her head to the side, rested her cheek where her mouth had been, and for just that few moments, let herself be just a woman in the arms of a man she deeply enjoyed. Her lashes fluttered down over her eyes and the world beyond him receded to a comfortable distance.

"Not perfect," she decided aloud. "Perfect tempts jealous creatures that thrive on misfortune." She ought to know. "But good." Her mouth curved into a bittersweet remembrance of watching a film with Roland (Little and broken but still good.) and in response, she nestled closer, fitted herself to him and he to her so they could fill each others' empty spaces.

After a long, quiet few moments, she murmured, "What do you suppose the chances are we can walk the rest of the way to the Inn without 'combusting' again?"

From:

hellorhighwater

He was a goddamn sap with an overactive imagination, but he swore he could feel it when she pressed a soft kiss against his chest, the gentle brush of lips dancing right over his beating heart--the warmth of her cheek bleeding through skin and bone to sink into the beating muscle to join every other little piece of her he tucked away inside whenever they were together.

One day, he'd be able to tell her that he loved the memory of her fingers wrapped around it--not because he was a masochist, but because that was the thing that he could lean in when it did feel too good to be true. He could feel her hand locked in his chest, life and death riding on a kiss, and remember that he was balancing a scale, not living out a story in her Enchanted Forest.

Moments like these were weight, carefully placed on one side, then the other, and all in the right area: heat and volatile passion safely in the tray of fire's kiss, quiet pieces of serenity protected by the vise of her fingers and the shadowy stains on his heart.

When she fitted herself more closely to him, that perfect place where he could better wrap his arms around her, nuzzle the top of her head, feel immune to the cool night air--for one split second, he felt the scales balance perfectly.

"I think the chances are 'slim and none.'" he admitted with a smile against the top of her head when she asked that question. "But, y'know, slim's still a chance, so..."

From:

fondofapples

Honestly, Regina didn't care whether they teleported to her room and combustion happened on a timetable measured in certainties, or walked and let it happen as it would when it did. She had no other plans for the evening, and if she had plans they probably would have amounted to 'invite Neil to join me for dinner'. They'd simply gotten an early and slightly unusual start on it.

She rubbed her cheek against his chest and playfully slipped a hand into his back pocket, knowing full well that wasn't going to make not combusting any more likely. "Then we'll risk it," she murmured, tilting her head up to grin cheekily at him, and all but begging a kiss. "As long as there's a chance."

They'd probably have each other vigorously later, enough so she could forgo the exercise, but she enjoyed his company. Getting chilly together with intermittent kisses would make getting warm together later that much more enjoyable. And she did like the idea of wine and fire and talking in front of it, then not talking--and, even the mental allusion to sex was enough to make her abdomen flutter with desire.

From:

hellorhighwater

The hand in his back pocket made him laugh, and the impish little grin she shot up at him...fuck, it did things to him, things that made him want to grab her face and let every word he wanted to say pour out of him, to find enough words to make her understand and believe and let him feel and be and want her like he did.

He stopped himself from letting them out by bending to give her that kiss she was silently asking for--and still, in that press of lips he felt every word pour out, burning themselves onto her mouth as he pulled her closer and sank into the heat of her body, the way she tasted, the soft and easy way she folded into him.

"Even in an imperfect world, there are always miracles." he murmured when the kiss broke, resting his forehead against hers for a second, grinning like an idiot just because he couldn't stop. He was falling in love, and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop, thought he might die if anyone tried to make him stop.

He will never take this from me. He promised himself silently, looking into her eyes. I will bleed, I will kill, I will torture--I will sell my soul, but I will not give him what's left of my heart.

"C'mon, let's go." he murmured, kissing her quickly one more time before he started to push off the tree she'd backed him into. Finding her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm, then left his hand to cover it as they started walking.

From:

fondofapples

Already Regina had learned to recognize when Neil spoke with his mouth on hers. It wasn't the same as the hissing sibilants and harsh magic of the dragon-shifter's tongue which he preserved for the vows she didn't know the words to but knew it was probably better that she didn't. Nor was it the babble that spilled out when he got 'stupid' to use his own words for it.

The language of his kisses was eloquent, passionate, and persuasive; she didn't need the words to feel it searing through her, convincing her of things she didn't want to think about but felt anyhow. She couldn't ignore it, either, not entirely, because hers said similar things despite her best intentions. Her kisses said things like be with me and don't leave me and this is good, we're good, and she didn't know how to stop them.

For the briefest of seconds she wondered if this was how it felt to Robin to fall in love with someone else after Marian, but she banished the thought into the farthest corners of her heart where she couldn't remember she'd thought it, and turned her focus outward instead toward the smile, the kiss, the chivalry that warmed this night, instead of the nights she'd never have.

"I don't know what to hope for," she said as they struck up a brisk walk, his hand over hers on his arm. And if she hadn't already banished that treacherous thought, it might have applied to it as well as the question of spontaneous combustion.

From:

hellorhighwater

Sometimes, in moments like these, Neil could almost feel the scales balance--that perfect place between her dark and light where there wasn't that little piece of something keeping the tiniest sliver of space between them, a barely there buffer that itched. He felt it then, a whisper of an instant where that space slipped and she was his for a second as he kissed her.

An instant where he he felt every word, burned the taste of them into his memory for that moment when she protected herself again--something to hold onto when he couldn't scratch that itch for more of her.

That moment was still fresh on his lips, swelling in his chest into something bigger than he was when she spoke, and almost on reflex the Night Dragon's deep, scornful voice filled his head.

Hope is a cure-all, Blair. It brings no results, it treats no wounds--it is little more than longing, the impotent meanderings of a weak spirit.

He thought of his teacher, his king...and he thought of his vow, and in an act of unmitigated rebellion, he smiled and leaned into her just a little as they walked.

"Then just...hope." he replied, something wild and brash in his smile as he said it. "Trust me, a lucky guy alone with a beautiful woman? Something's gonna happen, and even if it's not dirty? It's gonna be good."

From:

fondofapples

Regina couldn't help it. She laughed, and the alto chuckle that resonated in her throat and over her tongue had a warm wickedness to it.

Dirty was almost euphemistic when it came to the spark that flared between them. Filthy came closer. Beautifully, wickedly, deliciously filthy, in ways she wanted to revel in. Especially in that there was no poise involved, just freedom to feel, to act and react, to enjoy every pleasure they could give each other.

She curled the fingers of the hand resting on his arm, slowly and deliberately raking her nails over the fabric of his shirt to make absolutely sure he was thinking what she was thinking. Heat pooled, low and sweet, in her belly in response and she smirked at herself and him. They were definitely combustible.

And then, because she could, and she felt almost contractually obligated, she elbowed him lightly in the side and teased, "Hey now. That sounded perilously close to a hope speech."

From:

hellorhighwater

...goddamnit.

That subtle little rake of nails over cloth-covered skin pulled the breath right out of his lungs and made his gut clench with lust--raw, shining lust, nothing like anything he'd ever felt when he went looking for a good time or just had an itch to scratch.

The things she made him feel were no itch, and that teasing little scratch only made things worse.

"Doesn't count." he finally replied, voice gone a little bit hoarse with desire. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"Gotta be at least ten words for a hope speech--and the part about the dirty stuff doesn't count. Hope speeches aren't dirty. At best, it was...fuck if I know, you're distracting me."

From:

fondofapples

"Little you know." Her eyebrow rose into a meticulous arch over a playful smirk. "The only hope speeches worth listening to are all about the 'dirty stuff'." At least the subtext was. Not even Charming was that pure of heart that I will always find you didn't include so I can fuck you again.

She scratched the inside of his wrist this time, not a sharp scrape but decisive enough to get that reaction again. That look in his eyes and the sound of his voice when lust hit him was gorgeous. It made her want to unzip his jeans and do absolutely wicked things with her mouth.

"But I wouldn't want to distract you..."

From:

hellorhighwater

This time it was his bare wrist, and for a brief second he couldn't breathe for how badly he wanted her, for the thousand different ways he could fit into shadow and make her moan his name that clamped around his lungs and stole his air as he looked down at her...

This time, he was the one that stopped as soon as he spotted a tree away from the light. Pivoting on one foot, his arm slithered out of her grip, his hands caught her shoulders, and he backed her against the trunk with a grown so he could kiss her, hard and hungry and full of teeth.

He kissed her until he could breathe again once he lifted his head.

"Too late." he growled, resting his forehead against hers as he tried to get ahold of himself again. "Ember's Balls, you make me insane."

From:

fondofapples

She'd known it was coming by the way his stomach muscles tensed against her arm, but it didn't make it any more breathtaking when he spun her around, lust in his eyes and a groan on his lips. His gaze locked with hers, just long enough to drill it into her that he wanted her badly enough to have her right here. Then his mouth crashed down on hers, brutal in his hunger, and she wanted him badly enough that she might have let him, might have found a deeper shadow to wrap her legs around his hips and swallow his groans while he sated that need.

Might have, but she wanted more than this, wanted the cuddling and the clawing, crying out, can't keep their hands off each other, and the quieter, slower, but no less intense sex that came after. So she told him that with her kiss, the way she didn't just accept his kiss but answered it with the clashing of teeth and tongues and her hands gripping his biceps just as greedily.

When he finally broke away enough to speak, his mouth was smeared red with her lipstick and hers tingled with the afterburn of rough, bruising affections and unquenched desires. "Just in time, then," she growled softly back at him, and kept her hands firmly above his waistline so she didn't do anything more provocative. "You have no idea how tempted I am..."

From:

hellorhighwater

It wasn't remotely helpful, keeping her hands above his waist, because somehow his fucking arms had become an erogenous zone, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed past a fresh clutch of raw lust that tempted him just as much--to finish that sentence, there in the open, to lose control and lose himself in her body.

Cursing sharply in the ancient tongue, Neil kissed her again, took her face between his hands and took her mouth the way he wanted to take the rest of her until his own knees got weak and he trusted himself to break away.

For three long, controlled breaths, he pinned her there, forehead against hers, sharing her air...and finally stepped back, one hand dropping from her face to thread his fingers through hers. The other lifted to his mouth, wiping across it and coming away with the bright red smear of lipstick, a waxy parody of blood that brought a brief, feral grin to his face.

It was a perfect image: he felt exactly like a dragon with a taste of the kill.

Licking the taste of her off his lips, he started walking backwards, pulling her along with him with that same hungry smile--back on the path, closer to the inn. And her room.

And the privacy he needed to make her growl like that again.

From:

fondofapples

He might not have thought it was remotely helpful that she kept her hands above his waist, but if she'd haven given in to the urge then, or now, when he was kissing her like he owned her and begging her to show him he belonged to her, he'd have been bare-assed, plowing her with her skirt around her hips, both of them growling and moaning for anyone to hear.

By the time he released her, both of them were wiping their mouths, grinning sharp and feral, with eyes glittering like predators stalking their prey, and for a good thirty seconds, she considered finding something to bend over to invite him to mount her like stallion to mare.

It wasn't what she wanted, or at least not all that she wanted, but it would've gone a long way to getting them there.

But he'd taken her hand by then and was leading her backward through the forest, his gaze devouring her with every step and lust throbbing where nothing but a good long fuck could ease it. Then the temptation was to teleport them, end this torment in the collision of wills and hips and mouths against the first flat surface her room provided.

The stronger part of her wanted to know what would come of another ten minutes walk, and so she resisted, but every so often got close enough to graze his skin with her fingertips or steal a quick kiss, or whisper something filthy in his ear, then dance away again, smirking when he growled or cursed or threatened for only her to hear.

From:

hellorhighwater

It was the longest ten minutes of his life, and in it Neil decided that Regina was a fucking liar--she hadn't slept with a dragon, she was the dragon. Or maybe she made such beautiful fireballs because she was fire, the way every scrape of nails scorched his skin, every kiss charred his lips...

But then she'd whisper in his ear, some filthy promise or carnal wish she had--and that was the seduction that stalked him all his life. That was the fire and magic in his blood, caressing his veins, sparks dancing through tissue, the corona that surrounded his body and made beautiful promises of hearth and freedom and light if he would only let it out, let it play, let it dance across the world and feed until smoke and ash were all that remained.

She tore at his control with silken talons, and danced away from him every time he was about to let go--safer than the fire, softer than the dragon, madness and hunger and sin wrapped up in sparkling shadow eyes and moonlit skin.

By the time they reached the inn, he was watching her every movement like a predator on the hunt just to keep hold of his senses as she led the way towards her room.

He could think of nothing else but shadow and moonlight, and the sweet taste of dragon fire he would find on her skin the moment the door shut behind him.

From:

fondofapples

Regina savored every swipe of his hands, every growl when he couldn't pin her down, every groan she pulled from him with light scrapes of her nails and smutty silken whispers in his ears. She delighted in leading and being lead home, faster and faster, knowing each tree, each building, each surface they passed posed a threat to them actually getting there. And reveled in his obvious arousal, her own heat so thick she could smell it, the way his gaze tracked her every breath for the lift of her breasts and the sheer need of missing not a second with her.

This was what she'd imagined with Daniel but never had, tried to create with Graham but couldn't because most of his desire was false, might have had with Robin given time... This was the freedom to want and be wanted she'd sought and only come close to with Maleficent on some of the best days of her life. But Mal had been strung out and exhausted, in love with Regina for the fire and energy and affection she brought and not because she couldn't stop thinking about having her.

And Neil was something else again from any of them, with his passion and the pure, primal power sealed beneath his skin. When she growled or snarled or bit, he growled and snarled and bit back, and still swept her off her feet like she weighed less than a child. It was too soon, far too soon, to be thinking like this, comparing him to her other lovers but who should she compare him to, Thor? Who hadn't known she was flirting until she'd spelled it out in simple words?

By the time they passed through the doors to the Amagi Inn and the light caught off his predatory gaze, she felt that at least in this he had no comparison, and if he did, she had forgotten them entirely. Hardly surprising since all she could think was a rough countdown to her mouth kissed wide and her body trapped between him and the door to her room.

From:

hellorhighwater

When the door shut, she got just that: Neil, on her like a shot, hands cradling her head as he pressed her back against the door so he could tip her face up and feast on her mouth, taking the chance the moment her lips parted to taste, to take, to claim with a subsonic snarl that could be less heard and more felt, vibrating deep in his chest.

He had no comparison for this. None. He'd known need in his life, indulged the physical and compartmentalized all else, but this woman tangled everything for him. The most gifted of courtesans couldn't play his body the way she did, and not even the most cunning of royals could match her for wit, elegance, or beauty--and they sure as hell couldn't bring him to his knees the way she did with blood and violence, two things that stalked him in every corner of his life.

She didn't just give it to him: those sinful bites and scratches that branded his body when she came for him, she gifted him every single one. She knew, as few ever had, what he needed so he could be free to want and to feel.

And he wanted every mark she left on him, to belong to her as much as she would allow. He wanted those playful scratches of nails over clothing in public, made to tease but also serving to remind him that she understood what he was, and that she enjoyed it. She turned him into a starving animal, every goddamn time she touched him in even the gentlest of moments, and she didn't judge him for the depth of his need, she fucking reveled in it.

Breaking the kiss, Neil pressed his forehead against hers, fighting a losing battle with catching his breath or calming his racing heart.

"Tell me now if you're fond of anything you're wearing, 'cause if it's standing between me and your body, it dies." he growled, his hands already sliding down to rest on her hips, to start hitching her skirt up higher, fisting in the fabric as if preparing to rip it clean in half to get her naked faster.

From:

fondofapples

The game she'd been playing ended when her back hit the door, and as quick as his mouth found hers as quick did her hands bypass everything to palm the rigid line of heat behind the seam of his blue jeans. The unambiguous evidence of his need drew a dark velvety moan from deep in her throat, and she yielded to the filthy mating thrusts of his tongue with in quest to date her own bellyknitting need.

"Neil," she panted her way through a happy, husky laugh, so delighted at the same moment as she thought she might die from anticipation. "I don't ... " another laugh at the electric jolt of slick heat coating her labia with his threat. She gave up trying to speak, made a quick gesture with her free hand and she was nude from her head to her feet.

From:

hellorhighwater

...goddamnit, he fucking loved her magic.

Dragging her close for another kiss, between the collision of mouths and the sweep of hands that moved greedily over her bare body, he spoke a spell, slightly different from the one she'd heard him use before.

As he pressed her against the door, tracing her ribcage or squeezing her ass or palming her breast, a ripple of glittering coal simply ate away at his own clothing, patches of bare skin sealing against hers moment by moment until nothing else separated them.

Lifting her off her feet, he trusted her to wrap her legs around him for support as he carried her over to her bed and lay her down, settling over her with an impatient snarl. Pushing himself up over her with one arm, he reached between their bodies to guide himself into her--and fuck, she was so wet for him he could have shoved in with a snap of his hips. It was a hard temptation to resist, but he succeeded, pushing into her slowly with a kiss so she couldn't cry out, couldn't scream or moan away the slow torment of being filled, moment by moment--and neither could he. He could only feel, feel and burn and lose everything he was in the perfect heat of her wrapped around him.

From:

fondofapples

Nude and pinned between him and the door, already Regina's nerves sparked and her skin prickled with awareness of contrasts--the cool of the door and the searing heat beneath his skin, the flat unyielding metal of the door and the steely muscle that gave and pressed in all the right ways, the hot, wet tangle of their tongues and the raw scrape of her nails against his neck. When the dragon-fire coal began to burn away his clothes, the moving boundaries of skin and fabric, magical heat and physical heat, swept over her, a cascade of dizzying shivers that left her panting with need.

When he lifted her, her legs wrapped around him instinctively and she loosed an animal whine of relief for the closer contact. Her back hit the bed, and she canted her hips immediately to take him as deep as he wanted to be. And if he hadn't sealed her mouth with a kiss she would have screamed in sheer frustration at how slow it was when she felt as desperate as she'd ever been. As it was she clawed at his back, smacked at it with one fist and didn't breathe at all until he finally filled her.

As soon as he released her mouth, she hissed a delirious curse at him, "Bastard!" then hiccoughed a needy laugh into his shoulder. Since when was sex this much fun?

From:

hellorhighwater

When the kiss broke, Neil was laughing--low, quiet, and perfectly smug as she cursed at him, his nerves still singing with the kiss of her nails and the beat of her fist. Smug, self satisfied, sure of himself--none of these were things that Neil had ever been, but in the moment he was all three.

Satisfied by her desperation, smug that he'd been the one to do it to her, and absolutely certain that he was far too in love with the woman beneath him, and far too soon.

"Not a bastard." he corrected, kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheekbone, her jaw as he moved with a lazy roll of his hips, a slow and shallow thrust while he nipped at her throat and tried to decide if he'd leave another bruise or not. "Just a tease...tease, I take my time. If I were a bastard..."

Lifting his head, he pressed his forehead against hers with a grin.

"...I'd stop."

From:

fondofapples

"If you stop, I'll flip you and do the work myself," she replied, equally smug and self-assured. Because he desired her and he'd deny her nothing she showed a true need for, and she knew that.

And because she didn't care now if he fucked her quick and hard or slow and deep, as long as he didn't pull out, she lifted a hand to card slowly through his hair. She murmured roughly, "Don't stop, Neil. Take as long as you want to get there, but don't stop."

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil's eyes started to roll into his head as they slipped shut when her fingers slid through his hair. Leaning into the touch, he felt those rough words as much as he heard them, tugging at the space behind his heart and reigniting that hunger, that need, pulling him further into her, body and soul.

Opening his eyes, he looked into her face, a hand shifting to smooth her hair back off her forehead.

"I won't." he promised softly with another roll of his hips, shifting to tease his mouth over hers. He didn't stop, didn't tease this time, moving with slow, deep thrusts as he kissed her, feathered his lips along her jaw. "I won't stop...I got you..."

From:

fondofapples

They'd exhausted each other two nights ago for the first time, but this didn't feel like a second time. Not with the way they fit and found each other, not with the way he was saying 'I got you' even though they'd been playing and laughing a minute before, and not with the way he knew 'don't stop' didn't mean for him to shove his hand between them to bring her off with his thumb against her clitoris.

It meant she could let the need roll up over her, ache and throb and crave not the orgasm that would happen anyway, but the fullness and friction of him hard and huge inside her, and their bodies moving together. The subtle play of his chest hair against her breasts. The weight of him over her and the rough hair of his outer thighs against the sensitive skin at the inside of hers. All of the simple sensual, animal pleasures of being with a man.

This man in particular.

Since he'd slowed, she reveled in the myriad sensations, dragged her foot up the back of his calf, both to touch him and to feel it when his pubic bone ground against her mons. Deliberately sank her nails into the muscles of his back but didn't pull or scratch yet, just held on and promised stripes to go with those and the bites she'd left the other night.

Somehow they'd gone from frantic and fevered to a slow burn, deep and hard, and it was everything she didn't realize she'd wanted.

From:

hellorhighwater

Neil knew. He knew he wanted this, wanted it from the word 'go,' but Ember's Breath, he hadn't realized just how much until the wet heat of her body was wrapped tight around him, and the erotic madness of just moments before wound tight in his belly, slowly unrolling with every thrust of his hips and clench of her muscles around his cock.

There was a wild sort of joy in the way they came together that first night, falling into each other from a cliff neither one of them had seen coming. It was hot and a little wild and a lot satisfying when he woke up in the morning, tangled up in her and sore from the exertion and the marks she'd left on him--marks that equaled those he'd left on her.

Marks she still wore, and that carved themselves into his psyche as he found them again as readily as that promise of torn skin from her nails in his back again that wrapped around his lungs and stole his breath. He found himself mapping that network of bruises and bites with every roll of his hips--the ones on her thighs as he slid a hand over the leg she wrapped around him, the marks of his fingers on her hip.

Unable to resist that slow rising heat low in his body, he snapped his hips to thrust deep as he bent his head to rake his teeth over the mark he'd sucked onto her collarbone, bruised and dark against her pale skin, then soothed the sting with a slow, greedy stripe of his tongue before he shifted so he could nip at and whisper in her ear.

"Ember's Breath, I love the way you feel...want you to come for me, but I don't want this to end...can't get enough of you, Regina..."

From:

fondofapples

His hips snapped and drove breath from her lungs in a purely animal sound of acknowledgment--of his power, of his size, of her acceptance of his physical dominance, of her own need. Her fingernails bit and scored his back, drawing blood on their way down, giving him the reminders of her power, of her comfort with violence and blood, regardless of her preference for silk and magic.

Her claws seemed almost to retract then as she released him, but only to grab his ass and drag him up closer and deeper. Even before he said he couldn't get enough, she was thinking it, thinking that she needed him in her deeper, his kisses hotter and softer, their bodies closer.

She rode him through the next few thrusts, no distance between them and him buried as deep as the position would allow, sighing with her nose and mouth nuzzling against his neck. Eventually she freed one hand to tangle in his hair behind his head.

"Don't need to come, Neil. Need this, you." She found his mouth, took her time with a long kiss, punctuated only by soft gasps and hitches of breath, and then struggled between slow, rolling thrusts to talk to him, not just dirty talk, but real talk, seeking understanding: "I can get myself off. I can't... share... can't make you feel good by myself. I'll come, for me, with you, when I want to, when I'm done with you..."

And because she had a hold of his hair, she tugged hard to pull his head to the side and nipped hard beneath his jaw, signalling her intention to mark him there. "It won't be soon."