digitizedsouls | (psl) we all got secrets, so are you gonna keep it

[Hilda laughs breezily in reply, expecting no less from him.]

You'd be too much of a distraction from his hunting, probably.

[With that, she leans back into the back of the couch and allows herself to relax a little more, smiling over her glass at him as she takes another sip. The presentation of a problem, the offering of a solution, the effusive flattery as thanks... it's all a part of the insincere games they play. After all, it's the same series of moves she makes when she's manipulating people into doing what she wants. She'd be a fool not to recognize herself as he mirrors that part of her.

She wonders sometimes, in sober moments without him nearby, if the fact that she's wise to him and plays along anyway makes things better or worse. It's not a thought she likes to dwell on.]

You really are. Here I am, sharing my vodka and offering up my time and effort. What would you do without me?

[Her smile takes a turn for the flirtatious. It's not like she gets nothing out of the exchange.]

I'm sure I'll think of some way for you to make it up to me.

[ There's something about the way they act around each other that echoes the way they dance carefully around politics and expectations in their everyday lives, but perhaps between them, it's worse. Insincere in an obvious way, cold and mean in earnest. When an echo bounces back and forth too much, when the cave walls are too close, the chasm too deep and dark, what comes back can be a distorted mess - something far worse than what was cast out in the first place. Funny how something so tangled can strike closer to the truth.

For his own part, that oh-so-small crack in his usual mask is all he's willing to show, but even that much is something of a relief. The last person he tried to bare his soul to came at him with a blade and wreaths of flame. Fine alcohol and good sex are much, much more preferable. ]

Why, I would simply wither away without your generosity.

[ His eye tracks her movement as she settles back, catching that shift of her expression. In answer, something like fire ignites in that icy gaze. His tongue darts out of his mouth, making a pass over his lips as if to presumably catch some remaining vodka at the corners of his crooked smirk. ]

I have an idea or two, if you're amenable.

[The discordant tone of their worst selves pressing up against each other always sounds exhilarating to her in moments like this, on the precipice of making the same mistake they always do. Noble, veteran, informant, mark... none of who she is means anything once passions flare and clothes start coming off.

This doesn't mean anything.

The look in his eye doesn't escape her notice, and Hilda chews her bottom lip in response to it. She shifts her position a bit, ostensibly to get comfortable but really to arch her back just so to give him a better view of her body.]

Oh, you know me. I'm flexible.

I know very well.

[ It comes out of his mouth in almost a purr. He’d be loath to admit it, to himself but especially to her, that there are times when this is the part he enjoys the most about their meetings. There’s something to be said for peeling away physical layers, even if the metaphorical ones stay firmly in place.

He leans forward, sliding his glass onto the coffee table, and in the same motion he slips into her space, his knee resting between her legs on the couch cushion. Long fingers deftly, lightly travel the length of her arm to wrap around her own glass. Their fingertips brush for a fraction of a moment as he relieves her of her drink.

Rather than set it aside, he brings the glass to his lips for a slow, languid drink, before he finally closes the distance between them to slot their mouths together, the taste of alcohol and fruit juice fresh on his tongue. ]

[His voice practically courses through her, settling itself deep in the warmth of her core. If she had any shame left in her, she'd be embarrassed at how little it takes from him to get her excited. But shame has never been a part of this partnership, and she knows from experience that he is quite good at this. He has her where he wants her, but he's also exactly where she wants him to be.

Her body remains still as he helps himself to her personal space, her gaze following the trace of his fingers up her arm and to the drink in her hand. He helps himself to that, too. The power move isn't lost on Hilda, and she files it away to make him pay for it later.

For now, she parts her lips against his and presses her tongue into his mouth to get a taste of the drink he just stole. She reaches up with one hand, burying it into his hair and gripping onto it firmly. It's a warning. And a promise.]

[ In terms of sheer strength, Hilda easily has him outclassed. His Vision might give him an edge in most things, but not here, not now. That’s part of what makes this so thrilling, taking her iron strength and making it pliant with heat and touch and want. It’s a private little game he likes to play when they get like this, silently betting on who will come out on top in any given encounter.

Her fist tightens in his hair, and he knows the warning for what it is, prompting a heated murmur of approval against her open mouth. At some point, he was able to maneuver her glass safely onto a flat surface, freeing his hand, while the other keeps him braced against the couch. He draws his fingers along the exposed skin of her midriff, remapping familiar curves with teasing touches. ]

[Sometimes, Kaeya is able to temper and bend Hilda however he needs to. Other times, she loses her patience and takes control of the situation, slamming him down and using her strength to her advantage. Either way, the fight for control is part of what makes sex with him so damn satisfying. It's much more fulfilling than the coquettish performance that most men expect.

She hums softly in response to the familiar sensation of his fingers against her skin, her body arching slightly into his touch of its own volition. She rewards the effort with a sharp bite to his lower lip before she pulls back, a wicked grin spreading across her features as leans in to do the same to his ear.

Her hand doesn't loosen its grip on him.]

[ Oh, but pliant or not, he will always take a measure of satisfaction in the way he can get her to move, the way her body seems hungry for his touch as she shifts beneath his fingers. He would smirk, if not for the sudden, sharp sting of teeth against his lower lip that has him sucking in a breath as heat licks up the inside of his rib cage.

He enjoys this part as well, the roughness, the sharp edge to their trysts that no one in their right mind would dare show to a noble lady or high-ranking knight.

Hilda breaks away to show the same attention to his ear, teeth punching down enough to sting but not enough to break skin, and Kaeya breathes out a low, dark little chuckle. ]

Someone’s feisty. What’s the matter, has Boy Toy got you frustrated?

[For that Hilda gives Kaeya a rough tug on his hair, pulling his head back and exposing the line of his neck. She buries her face in it, although for now she refrains from biting again.]

Ass.

[But she doesn't deny it. The game she's playing with the lesser noble's son has left her without a good outlet for her needs, and the way he's so close to her only brings that fact into sharper relief. It's an opening she's certain Kaeya will take advantage of, but she'll be damned if she doesn't go down without a fight.]

Edited 2021-09-23 22:19 (UTC)

[ That sharp tug sends a sting of pain through his scalp, something that sits just on the right side of good, and he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. With his throat so exposed, he quietly braces himself for the sharp sensation of another bite, but it doesn’t come. At least not yet. Hilda’s breath is warm against his skin, as much of a threat as the fingers in his hair. ]

That just won’t do.

[ His gaze flicks down to what he can see of the top of her head. He realizes they’re teetering on some precipice, where the next moments will decide who wrests control and who gives in. ]

Someone ought to take care of you, Princess.

[ Now there’s a nickname he only breaks out in the bedroom, usually in those moments where he has her flushed and moaning beneath him. He knows very well that he’s really testing his luck by letting it pass his lips now, but that’s part of the fun. ]

[Fuck.

Hilda has the physical advantage in this battle between them, but that doesn't matter. He has the psychological edge, and she realizes in the moments between his words all of her unforced errors. She invited him into her space. She let him take the drink and establish the terms of the exchange. She got too excited too quickly, betrayed by her own sexual frustration. She let him see her cards, and of course he zeroed in on the one that left her most vulnerable. All things considered, she never stood a chance.

"Princess" is the final nail in the coffin, a calculated risk that pays off for him. The word settles itself right between her legs, and it's only by the grace of her self-control that she doesn't make a noise from that alone.

The hand in his hair twitches ever so slightly before she regains her hold, repositioning his head as she pulls back just enough to press her face close to his and look him in the eye. She's lost this time, but that doesn't mean she has any intentions of being gentle.]

And that someone's going to be you?

[It's the closest thing to an actual concession that he's going to get.]

Edited (slight rewording ) 2021-09-24 07:03 (UTC)

[ That slight pause, the shifting of her fingers against his scalp, is more telling than anything, and Kaeya knows that he’s won. That little nickname had just as much of a chance as igniting her ire as it did her passion, but it seems the gamble paid off. He’ll let her play at still having the upper hand for now, but it’s only a matter of time before she unravels for him.

Another tug of his hair brings their gazes together, and oh, how Kaeya is reveling in his victory already. His lips curve into a knowing smirk, the fire of want and thrill of winning shining in one ice-colored eye. ]

Who else would it be?

[ The hand that he’s kept braced against the couch slides into her hair, drifting up to the place where she keeps it bound at the back of her head. ]

Certainly not some spoiled lordling who doesn’t know what you want. What you need.

[ She will likely need a new hair tie. Ice sparks from his fingertips, gathering on the elastic band to make it brittle and hard, and he snaps it free with a simple flick of his wrist to send her locks unfurling over her shoulders, down her back. ]

[Part of Hilda wants to be angry that she's been so outplayed, especially given the way he's smirking at her about it. She's generally not a gracious loser, her years of being a Goneril instilling in her the idea that such an outcome is unacceptable, but the more he keeps talking the less she cares. Weaved into his words are promises to leave her completely and utterly undone when this is over, and the excitement of it is quickly overtaking her need to be in control. And really, this is more true to form--being in charge is effort, and isn't it always better to have someone else do that for her?

That's what she tells herself, anyway.

Her eyes slip closed at the feel of his hand in her hair, and a soft sigh escapes her lips when the band snaps and her hair falls around her. She releases the fist in his hair, sliding her hand down his neck and collarbone to his chest, where she grips tightly to the fabric she finds there.]

Lucky me that it's you here instead of him.

[Let the unraveling begin.]

[ The fabric of his shirt is not a terribly heavy affair, light and airy beneath her fingers, and left unbuttoned just enough to give a peek of his chest. Her grip tugs it askew, revealing the long line of his collar bone. He chuckles, the sound dark and low and breathy as she concedes at last. ]

That’s my girl.

[ The tips of his fingers, still chilled from the use of his magic, drift along the line of her jaw, coaxing her to tilt her head up and bear her throat to him. When she does, and surely she will, he leans in to work his mouth along her neck. The press of sweet kisses sit in sharp contrast to the sting of teeth as he nips at her skin. As he leans in to explore her, the leg he has braced between hers presses against the heat of her - a happy consequence of their positions, but he is interested to see just how worked up she really is. ]

[Hilda hates how much she enjoys the way he speaks to her in moments like this after she's acquiesced to him, cocksure and possessive like she's an object he's just won. In a way, she supposes that she is--and goddess knows she's not much different when it's her that comes out on top. But the way that his words burrow themselves under her skin, bending her to his every whim and making her want him to treat her like she belongs to him, says things about herself that she'd rather not consider.

Next time--and there will be a next time, she knows--she'll have to overtake him before he has the chance to get inside her head.

The cool touch of his fingers send a light tremble through her, and she doesn't resist in the slightest when he tilts her chin upwards and begins to help himself to her throat. The first bite causes her to take in a sharp breath of air that's released when he follows it up with another soft kiss. He's playing with her, and the way that he's keeping her guessing is more intoxicating than the vodka was.

He'll find that she's quite worked up, short skirt ridden up to her hips and the thin fabric of her panties starting to soak through. The pressure of his leg pressing up against her causes her to gasp, a noise that she attempts to conceal with a small laugh that's heavy with desire.]

I really needed this.

[She's already lost; there's nothing to lose further at this point by being honest about how much she's enjoying it.]

Edited (repeated words bad) 2021-09-26 04:12 (UTC)

[ There are a great many things about his relationship with Hilda that neither of them care to step back and examine. The fire she lights in him, for one. The way she looks so pretty beneath him that it makes him want to control and claim and carefully take her apart, piece by lovely piece.

She truly does bring out the worst in him, here more than anywhere else. In battle, he revels in the looks of fear and uncertainty in the eyes of allies and enemies alike. With Hilda, it’s her hunger that he desires more than anything else. ]

Just this?

[ He breathes it out against her skin, his tone somehow both amused and breathless with want. He can feel her heat through the fabric of his pants, moisture starting to seep into the place where his leg presses against her. He’d bet she’s been worked up and wanting from the beginning, and the thought thrills him. ]

Why, Princess— [ he punctuates that use of her nickname with a subtle shifting of his thigh. ] –We’ve only just begun.

[ His teeth find her skin again, as he clamps down hard enough to for sure leave a mark, though as a courtesy he makes sure to mark her someplace she can easily conceal with a shirt. A little private reminder of just who she belongs to, something for her to see when she looks in the mirror in the morning. He bites and sucks until her skin goes pink, then laves the sting away with a pass of his tongue. ]

Not just this. Don't be stupid.

[Even worked up like she is, absolute deference is not a thing that Hilda Valentine Goneril does gracefully. Or at all, usually. To date Kaeya's the only one who's managed to wrangle it out of her--but they're not quite there yet. Even as worked up as she is, there are still pieces to be removed and set aside before she ends up completely submissive and staring up at him like he's the only thing that matters.

It wouldn't be any fun for either of them if she came apart too easily, after all.

The way in which he shifts against her causes her to hum softly in approval--a noise that's cut off by a sharp yelp when teeth sink into skin. It hurts, and he lingers on the spot to ensure that he leaves a mark, but goddess the pain feels nice. She loves being on the receiving end of roughness about as much as she enjoys being rough with him. The mark will annoy her tomorrow when she has to dress around it and she has the full mental clarity to see it for what it is, but for now this is exactly what she wants from him.]

[ The smart whip-crack of a reply makes him laugh. Wearing Hilda down is a slow erosion, a careful application of teeth and tongue, teasing touches and delicious friction that works its way through her stubborn personality to the molten core at her center. They’re nowhere near that far gone, so he should know to expect her to bite back when he runs his mouth at her.

Encouraged by the way she reacts when his teeth dig into her skin, he crowds more heavily into her space, shifting his head back up to claim her lips again. It’s less a kiss and more a bite in its own right, his teeth catching on her lower lip with a soft sound that might have been a growl. His leg shifts away from her only so that his hand can take its place, long fingers slipping between her legs to tease her through her panties.

He wants to see how long it takes before she gets impatient and either demands to be undressed or starts to take matters into her own hands - another private little game he plays with himself in the heat of the moment. ]

[Despite herself, Hilda can't help but smile as Kaeya laughs and re-approaches. It's crooked, and a more than a little devilish, but those traits make it no less earnest. She enjoys hearing him laugh, especially when she's the one to draw it out of him.

The moment passes quickly, and his bite to her bottom lip draws a moan out of her. A much deeper moan follows when he slips a hand downward to tease where she needs his attention the most. The tease brings some bit of relief, pleasure coursing through her from careful movements, but it isn't nearly enough. She rolls her hips up into his touch in a silent plea for more.

Hilda is familiar with many of the games Kaeya plays, both in his head and with her, when they find themselves in positions like these. This game, however, is not one she's caught on to--most likely because she tends to be distracted by his ministrations and her own impatience. It's also a game that tends to end quickly, and tonight is no exception. Eager to shed layers both to give him better access and to compensate for how quickly her body is heating up, she wriggles out of her oversized cardigan. She then breaks away from him so that she can pull her top off and toss it out of the way. Her bra stays on, at least for now.

Once her hands are free from that task, she reaches over and curls one finger under the fabric of his own shirt, tugging at it lightly.]

Now you.

[It's hardly a command, although she really would like it to be. It's difficult to focus with his hands working the magic that they are, and her voice comes out heavy and breathless rather than with any kind of authority.]

[ Those noises she makes are music to his ears, and no matter how many times he’s able to draw moans and gasps and cries out of her, he has yet to tire of it. He grins, something sharp and far too pleased, before he swoops in again to claim her lips, drinking down her noises of pleasure almost greedily.

As ever, his game of trying Hilda’s patience is short-lived. Her fuse is often quite short, but sometimes he considered letting her in on the competition. Perhaps she might offer some resistance then, and he can really try his hand at driving her crazy. He maintains the heat of their kiss for as long as he can while she wriggles out of her initial layers, though he has to pull away when she tugs her top off. ]

Mm. What’s the magic word?

[ Said as one of his fingers slides past the fabric of her underwear to tease her further, tracing lazy circles around her clit. ]

[Hilda is not quiet with any partner--she's having sex to have a good time, and she's going to make sure that people know it. But she's especially unrestrained with him. They're already more open with each other than most, in their own dark way. Noises of pleasure pale in comparison to that, when it comes to things she might be ashamed of.

The finger on her clit causes her to breathe in sharply, followed by a slow and shaky release. Fuck, he too good at working her up.]

A-actually, keep your hands right where they are. Please.

[Just because she's changed her request doesn't mean she's forgotten what he's asked of her. If anything the "please" is more important now, just shy of begging him to keep taking her apart.

She unhooks her finger from his shirt and ghosts her fingers over the topmost button.]

I've got this, if you'll let me.

[The request for permission doesn't strike her as anything unusual, but it's a sign that she's slowly but surely slipping further under him.]

[ That particular sort of please wasn’t the one he was asking after, but he’s not about to complain when there’s want just a touch of desperation behind the word instead of impatience. He always enjoys pulling a “please” past her lips, no matter the context, and this time is no different.

There’s not much that Kaeya misses, about their interactions or in general. He’s always ready to zero in on the slightest detail and commit it to memory, and while Hilda might not be aware of her request for permission as anything strange, he knows just what it means. His lips curve upward knowingly, hungrily, as he glances down at her hand on his chest, and then at her. ]

Go on. Undress me.

[ It’s an acquiescence as much as an order, subtle and smooth though it is. As if to reward her for even seeking permission, he eases aside the fabric of her panties to brush his thumb over her clit, the motions more sure instead of simply teasing. One of his fingers brushes past her entrance once, twice, before slipping inside her. ]

[A smile spreads across Hilda's face, and she responds with a voice that's little more than a purr.]

Yes, sir.

[Okay, that reaction she recognizes for what it is. He's giving orders now, and she's happy to comply. She starts the process of unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, her movements less certain than she'd like thanks to the distraction of his fingers. Despite the setback (wonderful as it is), she makes decently quick work of it and pulls his shirt open and down his shoulders. And, because she honestly cannot help herself, she leans in and presses a kiss to his collarbone.

He rewards her obedience by working her in earnest, playing her like an instrument with deft movements that draw a groan from deep within her. She curses softly under her breath, resting her forehead against his shoulder and allowing herself a few moments to simply enjoy what he's doing to her.

She doesn't lose herself in it for too long, however. She can't--she's not in control here. Once she has enough of her wits back to realize as much, she reaches down and slips her fingers a couple inches down the waistband of his pants.]

These too?

[ The breathless way she calls him “sir” strikes hot sparks in him, makes his grin all the more broad and satisfied, like he’s a cat toying with its prey. He does most certainly enjoy himself when their roles are reversed, but there’s something about being the one to come out on top that he especially likes. He enjoys molding her with his hands, taking this absolute rock of a warrior woman and rendering her soft and supple. Every moment feels like victory.

She falls against him while his hand works between her legs, fingers deftly pressing into her heat, and he lets her. She’ll come back to herself soon enough, and if she doesn’t, well, they’ll just have to deal with that. He keeps an eye on what he can see of her, the way she breathes and shudders and curses under his touch. It’s good, so very good.

When her wits finally return and her fingers drift to his waistband, he pulls away from her, withdrawing his hand and straightening where he kneels on the couch cushions. It’s easy to tell that he’s worked up himself, with the way he strains against his pants, so very eager to be set free. Her question is left to hang in the air a moment while he brings his fingers up to his mouth, tongue slipping from between his lips to slide over every slick digit. He laps up the taste of her with a satisfied little groan. ]

Yes. [ He says at last, fingertips still pressed to his own lips in quiet ecstasy. ] Those too.

Edited 2021-09-30 19:15 (UTC)

[Hilda draws back slightly and watches Kaeya with rapt attention, chewing her bottom lip to keep from making a sound from the ache that settles between her legs as he licks his fingers clean. For all the effect it's having on her, he might as well be licking her in earnest. If she's lucky, eventually he will.

Of course, she'll have to earn it.

He gives the go-ahead, and she wastes no time in reaching over and opening the fly of his pants. She doesn't waste time with touches and teases, despite the temptation to do so--order or no order, she wants to see him naked. A few strong tugs, a bit of bodily rearranging on their respective parts, and she has pants and underthings quickly pulled down to his ankles.

After taking a pause to appreciate her handiwork (and what wonderful work it is--he's a glorious sight, undressed like this), Hilda slips to the floor and kneels at his feet. The gesture is a bit on the nose, sure, but she intends for it to be. It's a means of communicating that she's finally done putting up resistances, ready for him to take control of her however he sees fit.

From her vantage point on the floor, she grins at him. He's the cat that caught the canary, but that canary is ready to have the time of her life in the process.]

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