On The Prowl (Anastasia)

"The real you."

Anastasia blushed, eyes shyly peeking back up, her body language almost bashful in comparison when she was pulled unto the raven haired beauty's lap instead. Her golden eyes averted, staring down at her lap as Medeia repeated once more the words she needed to hear; acceptance, without fear. She did not care who she was, what illness her body housed, that she could see beyond that to see what was hidden within. A soul, untouched by vengeance or bitterness despite all the torment brought unto her… and that was something the young woman had forgotten herself. That innocence still reigned her heart. And maybe that was her true weakness.

The purity.

The naivité.

The white-haired woman let her eyes dart back to the face of the angel who's lap and attention she'd now claimed, failing to notice how her arms had wrapped around her waist until she was pulled flush against her, lips captured once more before she could utter any more stupidity. It took only moments before Anastasia crumbled in her embrace, wanting to wrap her arms around her neck but refraining, as her tied hands meant she'd have to break a kiss she did not wish to break. Instead her hands just grasped for whatever clothing was within reach to pull herself closer, feeling Medeia's body do the exact same until not an inch of space was left between them.

With Medeia's hands traveling up her body to focus on her ears instead, and her gentle touch pinpointing their weaknesses as if she'd always known them, Anastasia shuddered softly, the soft moan muffled by the angel's lips. The chestnut-furred ears flicked against her palms before laying flat against the side of her head, actual heat radiating from her cheeks from the never-ending embarrassment. The other-dimensional woman was happy to receive the attention, as evident as it was with the way she was melting into the dark mage more and more with each passing second, yet knew not how to properly handle the affection given, making her more akin to a lamb at the mercy of the wolf that had caught her. Not that she was complaining in the slightest. When they finally broke apart to allow both some manner of breathing, Anastasia barely backed away enough to allow the angel some space, still panting heavily regardless despite the sudden vigour in her eyes. She fumbled over unspoken words, decided to stay silent instead and leant back in, her bound wrists wrapping around her neck so she could capture the symbol of her affection and the lips that belonged to her of her own accord. A silent plea for more. Because more was all she had left to give.



Wordcount: 454
Thread Wordcount: 16,238

To say that Medeia was pleased with Anastasia’s reactions was an understatement. The bound woman was clearly becoming more comfortable with the close contact and the angel could almost feel the fear and worry melt away, replaced by the same want and desire that the dark haired woman felt for Anastasia. Yet, Medeia was not overly forceful and remained as gentle as she had been throughout the entire meeting. Her arms wrapped around the beautiful woman before her again and as their lips met once more, she deepened the kiss, encouraging Anastasia to embrace the moment without having to say anything verbally, her actions expressing it for her. The woman’s bound wrists around her neck were a little irritating though and with little more than a thought, Medeia would cause them to disappear, freeing her captive and allowing her to move as she wished to. There was no reason for her to remain restrained at this point, well, unless Anastasia wished to be and the raven haired woman hoped that it would only increase the sense of trust even further. The angel hated distrust, it only made such encounters awkward and ruined the moment.

As much as she wished for their latest kiss to continue, again the time came when both she and Anastasia needed air and it was Medeia this time who broke it. There was a smile across her features, her eyes dancing with desire and approval, her heart was beating rather fast. She wanted the woman in front of her more than ever and although she was determined not to push things too quickly, Medeia was somewhat fighting against her more carnal instincts. It was rare that she came across someone quite so innocent as Anastasia and she so deeply wished to make the most of every second.

After a few more seconds of simply recovering, she would move back in and take back the momentum, her arms tightening once more around Anastasia, capturing her lips once again, as well as causing them both to fall onto the soft blankets of the bed. Aptly enough, a blanket was also a good description of how Medeia was wrapped around her newest lover, warm and comfortable, her lips firmly but sweetly attached to Anastasia’s. Her hands would eventually start to move too, wishing to explore the beautiful woman’s form, as well as extending a silent invitation for Anastasia to do the same thing to Medeia’s. She wished to feel the lovely hands of the woman on her body and as she pressed herself up against the white haired woman, Medeia would certainly give her the opportunity. Her lips, however, did not leave Anastasia’s for a moment, wishing nothing more than for them to remain there for as long as possible, adoring the taste of the beautiful woman and to remain there. No scars or virus would ever have prevented things from reaching this point. Such things were simply of no consequence to a being such as herself. At that moment, all that mattered to her was the beautiful woman in her arms.

(514 Words)
(16,752 TWC)