[ He feels that fleeting moment of awkwardness, the split-second reluctance to part lips, but feels gratified when Jill doesn't pull away; he was prepared to do it for her if she didn't seem to find her footing. The last thing he wants is to do anything that resonates poorly with her.
And, well. Nothing breaks. Jill is warm and soft and familiar, and Clive settles fingers against her chin to tip it, carefully, to find a better angle that slots their mouths together. His pulse is fast, and distantly, he's afraid that he might burn her: he must be hot to the touch.
By the time he finally comes up for air, he's flushed and panting. The hand still looped around Jill's waist pulls her inward by it, knee against bare knee. ]
You're perfect, [ he rasps. ] Founder, I could do this for hours.
[He guides her and she's grateful. If he's a flame than she's the moth, willing and eager. She could think of worse ways to go.
Her eyes are bright, breath stolen from her lungs just the same as Clive. When was she supposed to breathe during that? Already, she wants to kiss him again, ready to drown in him. Forget the shirt.]
Do you have somewhere to be?
[Jill knows the answer to that. She drops her head to kiss his bare shoulder, because if they need to catch their breath she can at least pepper his skin with kisses, mouth trailing up towards his neck.]
[ They both know that if Gav came running right this minute, Clive would pack things up and attend to whatever catastrophe has befallen the realm. It's the way of things, but he can be selfish enough to hope that he gets these next few hours to himself (themselves).
A throaty exhale, when she kisses his neck; she should be able to feel how he rumbles against her lips. ]
―If my lady will indulge me, [ he offers, hand gently massaging Jill's nape. ] I have a request for her.
[Anything she wants to reply, but she loses the word against his throat, a kiss pressed to the tip of his scar before she bumps the underside of his jaw with her nose. She could kiss every inch of him and still want more.]
What is it, Clive?
[She asks after a moment, lifting her head to look upon his face with nothing but fondness. Should Gav barge in she'd understand, as always, but she might have to make an effort not to kill the man.]
[ He's momentarily made stupid by the sheer radiance of that look on Jill's face; by the flames, she's so fucking beautiful. He can't decide if he wants to tip his weight backwards for a better vantage of her face, or if he wants to lean forward and taste that smile on her lips.
Verdict: tip back. He'll get distracted if he starts kissing her again, and he has to tell her his request, which is― ]
―I want you to mark me. [ Thumbing across Jill's lower lip, savoring the softness of it. ] Anywhere you please.
[The request surprises her, eyebrows lifting a fraction and smile dimming. It's clear she didn't anticipate that request.]
Mark you?
[Hasn't he been marked enough? A lovemark is a far cry from a brand, but her hand comes to his cheek, crossing the short distance between them. A thumb brushes over where the scar of his brand remains.]
Only if you'll do the same to me.
[She finds her smile again, albeit smaller. If he's sure, then they can both be marked by one another. A temporary reminder of tonight--far better than a lash or brand laced with poison.
But she has to take care with him. So many people have not.]
[ He has been marked enough. People have hung many labels from his neck since he was a child: the failed firstborn, the broken shield, the Branded slave. Even 'Cid' is a marker of sorts, a scar that will never heal; there are many things Clive has to wear out of necessity, though many of his new mantles are slung over his shoulders by his own choosing.
He can tell that Jill isn't thrilled by the request. It warms him, and leaves him feeling apologetic in the same breath. She sees so much of him, and so much of these things make her gentle heart worry. He doesn't deserve her. ]
If those are your terms. [ Leaning into her touch, nuzzling against her palm. ] But of all the marks I've had to bear, I would covet the ones made by you the most.
[ So she needn't worry. She'll always be welcome and wanted. ]
[Shield, slave, or solider, she's always seen him. She hopes she always will. Her eyes stay on his, searching, and finding the absolute truth in his words. That allows her to put her worries aside.]
Anywhere I please?
[An echo, mirth making its way back into her eyes.]
Fuel to the flame. Are you sure you want that?
[Jill teases. People talk anyway, and they'll talk more in the morning, marks visible on his skin or not.]
[ A beat, as he realizes that Jill has warmed to the idea, and then: ]
I'm the one that asked. [ To the tune of 'did I stutter?'. Playful. ] Anywhere, Jill.
[ She's free to make him pull down his trousers and present his ass for marking if she so desired. The power she holds over him is, in fact, immeasurable. ]
And as many as you'd like, if you need the deal sweetened.
[He makes her laugh, an almost shy, girlish sound. Her fingers slip into his hair before she drops her hand--any attempt to brush his hair from his face is futile, stubborn as his hair is.]
Oh, but there's so much of you. I'm spoiled for choice.
[ He could eat that sweet laugh out of her mouth, so he does: a brief kiss, after she finishes speaking. He'll have to learn moderation, but perhaps that can wait until after this night. ]
Feel free to explore your options, [ he murmurs, fond. ] Everything you see is yours.
[ He kisses her like a man who's had five years to pine over the most beautiful woman in the world― because he is. He shifts to meet Jill's touch over his chest (her hand feels cool against his skin, though academically he knows it's just that he runs how, not that she runs cold), raking his lips over her cheek and jaw.
One more bump of forehead to forehead, and he stops trying to gnaw on her like a dog with a bone. ]
...I do. [ It takes a second for him to acknowledge it, mostly because he comes with so much baggage. But he knows he has her, and his heart sings at the thought of it. ] And I already know where I want to leave my mark.
[They've both belonged to others. Different banners, different tribes. But to belong to one another is something that only brings a smile to Jill's face. It's a comfort, above all else. It's her turn to take a kiss, glad, encouraging.]
Well? Will you tell me, or will you show me?
[She's already compiling a list of where she wants to put her mouth on him. She doesn't intend to let him cut in line, but she has to ask after he teases her so.]
[ Oh, well that's not fair. It's his request, and she has dibs on nibbling, so: ]
You first.
[ Though, of course, being unable to deny Jill completely, he gives her a little hint: he thumbs behind her ear, at a patch of skin that remains uncovered because of how she usually ties her hair back. Subtle enough, but visible to anyone looking too closely. ]
[He may run hot, but that touch makes her shiver. She smiles at him, emboldened, and considers how she wants to do this.
She decides she needs to sit closer. Closer means on his lap, and she puts a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she moves, trusting him to understand what's going on.]
[ Oh, the sequel. This is the first time they've done anything like, but he finds that it's easy enough to brace himself and keep Jill upright while she's straddling his lap. Almost as if he was made for this, molded to fit to whatever configuration she'd like.
Instinct has him settling one hand at Jill's waist, the other still cupped against her jaw. Holding, keeping. ]
Well, that narrows the scope considerably. [ His neck, or the part of his chest that's perpetually popping out of his (slutty) V-neck. ] And it happens to align with what I want for you.
[ Always on the same page. Even for silly things like this. ]
[Pointless to say she's never done this before--of course she hasn't, and she knows he knows it. But sitting on his lap feels right, the length of his shirt sneaking up her thighs, and she lets her eyes roam over his chest before they settle on his neck.]
It can't be all teeth.
[She murmurs, fingertips brushing over a spot on the side of his throat. Some teeth, some sucking of his skin, she imagines, but in practice she imagines she'll be clumsy. It's okay. If he expected a skilled seductress, he would be looking elsewhere.]
[ Eyes up where Jill can meet them, Rosfield. Clive keeps his focus on Jill's smile, though his palm smooths down her waist to make sure the shirt she's wearing doesn't ride up completely. Founder, give him strength. ]
I think I can handle a bite. [ He raises a brow, then laughs for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. She makes him feel so light, as if the problems of their world can't touch him when she's in his orbit. ]
[His laugh is everything. Even when they were children, it felt like a rare sound, something to be kept in her heart to reflect upon later whenever she could hear it. That feeling hasn't changed.]
Greedy.
[As he should be, and Jill's affections are for none but him. She ducks her head to press a kiss to the spot she's chosen on his neck, hands on his shoulders. There's a pause as she decides a nip with her teeth comes first, then her mouth, lips parting to suck at his skin enough to bruise.]
[ This time, the oh isn't just in his head: it comes out as a murmur, a soft exclamation of surprise-pleasure that skims along Jill's soft hair. Any discomfort that would usually come with being bitten (even by someone as lovely as Jill) never quite lands; Clive is too busy marveling at the reality that Jill is on his lap, with her mouth on his skin, marking him.
It does make Clive feel greedy. He can feel heat starting to pool in the pit of his gut, but he tempers it as best he can while holding Jill close and waiting for her to finish. ]
―That feels nice, actually. [ Playing it cool, though he feels anything but. ]
[Her laugh is quiet, but he'll feel her breath as she huffs out, mouth leaving his skin just so that she can see the small, red mark she's left to darken over time. It's an angry little thing, and she presses her tongue to his skin to soothe it, even if he's said nothing of discomfort.
How is she expected to keep her mouth from him now? She's quite fond of that little oh he let escape.]
They want to take a bite out of me, [ is the correction, less chiding and far more adoring. Like he can't get enough of harmlessly bantering during intimacy, like he can't get enough of Jill.
He shivers under her attention, tongue and lips and nose, and makes another sound of low contentment in the back of his throat. He can't see the mark without a mirror to aid him, but he can feel it, warm and pulsing. ]
...Should we take turns, or do you want to keep going?
[That's all she'll say about the taking a bite out of him part, smiling as she leans back to look at him, a hand coming to rest against his neck so she can graze her thumb over the mark she's left. Maybe it shouldn't make her feel proud, but it does. Everyone will know who left it.
As for taking turns...]
You can't ask me to choose between two such desires. I'll be here forever, if you'll allow it, but I also want what I'm owed.
[ "Forever" would sound dramatic coming from anyone else but Jill; as it stands, he shares the sentiment. He could probably spend the rest of eternity worshiping her if she (and the world) allowed it, but he'll keep that deranged little secret to himself.
For now: ] Well. I wouldn't want to keep you wanting.
[ Terminally incapable of not offering something he can give. He brackets Jill's face with his palm, keeping her steady with his warmth. ]
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And, well. Nothing breaks. Jill is warm and soft and familiar, and Clive settles fingers against her chin to tip it, carefully, to find a better angle that slots their mouths together. His pulse is fast, and distantly, he's afraid that he might burn her: he must be hot to the touch.
By the time he finally comes up for air, he's flushed and panting. The hand still looped around Jill's waist pulls her inward by it, knee against bare knee. ]
You're perfect, [ he rasps. ] Founder, I could do this for hours.
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Her eyes are bright, breath stolen from her lungs just the same as Clive. When was she supposed to breathe during that? Already, she wants to kiss him again, ready to drown in him. Forget the shirt.]
Do you have somewhere to be?
[Jill knows the answer to that. She drops her head to kiss his bare shoulder, because if they need to catch their breath she can at least pepper his skin with kisses, mouth trailing up towards his neck.]
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[ They both know that if Gav came running right this minute, Clive would pack things up and attend to whatever catastrophe has befallen the realm. It's the way of things, but he can be selfish enough to hope that he gets these next few hours to himself (themselves).
A throaty exhale, when she kisses his neck; she should be able to feel how he rumbles against her lips. ]
―If my lady will indulge me, [ he offers, hand gently massaging Jill's nape. ] I have a request for her.
[ All this talk of demands and requests. ]
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What is it, Clive?
[She asks after a moment, lifting her head to look upon his face with nothing but fondness. Should Gav barge in she'd understand, as always, but she might have to make an effort not to kill the man.]
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Verdict: tip back. He'll get distracted if he starts kissing her again, and he has to tell her his request, which is― ]
―I want you to mark me. [ Thumbing across Jill's lower lip, savoring the softness of it. ] Anywhere you please.
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Mark you?
[Hasn't he been marked enough? A lovemark is a far cry from a brand, but her hand comes to his cheek, crossing the short distance between them. A thumb brushes over where the scar of his brand remains.]
Only if you'll do the same to me.
[She finds her smile again, albeit smaller. If he's sure, then they can both be marked by one another. A temporary reminder of tonight--far better than a lash or brand laced with poison.
But she has to take care with him. So many people have not.]
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He can tell that Jill isn't thrilled by the request. It warms him, and leaves him feeling apologetic in the same breath. She sees so much of him, and so much of these things make her gentle heart worry. He doesn't deserve her. ]
If those are your terms. [ Leaning into her touch, nuzzling against her palm. ] But of all the marks I've had to bear, I would covet the ones made by you the most.
[ So she needn't worry. She'll always be welcome and wanted. ]
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Anywhere I please?
[An echo, mirth making its way back into her eyes.]
Fuel to the flame. Are you sure you want that?
[Jill teases. People talk anyway, and they'll talk more in the morning, marks visible on his skin or not.]
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I'm the one that asked. [ To the tune of 'did I stutter?'. Playful. ] Anywhere, Jill.
[ She's free to make him pull down his trousers and present his ass for marking if she so desired. The power she holds over him is, in fact, immeasurable. ]
And as many as you'd like, if you need the deal sweetened.
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Oh, but there's so much of you. I'm spoiled for choice.
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Feel free to explore your options, [ he murmurs, fond. ] Everything you see is yours.
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And I'm yours. You know it, don't you?
[A smile as she trails her hand down his chest. Strange, to touch so freely.]
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One more bump of forehead to forehead, and he stops trying to gnaw on her like a dog with a bone. ]
...I do. [ It takes a second for him to acknowledge it, mostly because he comes with so much baggage. But he knows he has her, and his heart sings at the thought of it. ] And I already know where I want to leave my mark.
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Well? Will you tell me, or will you show me?
[She's already compiling a list of where she wants to put her mouth on him. She doesn't intend to let him cut in line, but she has to ask after he teases her so.]
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You first.
[ Though, of course, being unable to deny Jill completely, he gives her a little hint: he thumbs behind her ear, at a patch of skin that remains uncovered because of how she usually ties her hair back. Subtle enough, but visible to anyone looking too closely. ]
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She decides she needs to sit closer. Closer means on his lap, and she puts a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she moves, trusting him to understand what's going on.]
I want people to see what I leave on you.
[That's his hint.]
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Instinct has him settling one hand at Jill's waist, the other still cupped against her jaw. Holding, keeping. ]
Well, that narrows the scope considerably. [ His neck, or the part of his chest that's perpetually popping out of his (slutty) V-neck. ] And it happens to align with what I want for you.
[ Always on the same page. Even for silly things like this. ]
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It can't be all teeth.
[She murmurs, fingertips brushing over a spot on the side of his throat. Some teeth, some sucking of his skin, she imagines, but in practice she imagines she'll be clumsy. It's okay. If he expected a skilled seductress, he would be looking elsewhere.]
You can let me know if it hurts.
[Teasing.]
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I think I can handle a bite. [ He raises a brow, then laughs for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. She makes him feel so light, as if the problems of their world can't touch him when she's in his orbit. ]
...Or two. Or three.
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Greedy.
[As he should be, and Jill's affections are for none but him. She ducks her head to press a kiss to the spot she's chosen on his neck, hands on his shoulders. There's a pause as she decides a nip with her teeth comes first, then her mouth, lips parting to suck at his skin enough to bruise.]
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It does make Clive feel greedy. He can feel heat starting to pool in the pit of his gut, but he tempers it as best he can while holding Jill close and waiting for her to finish. ]
―That feels nice, actually. [ Playing it cool, though he feels anything but. ]
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How is she expected to keep her mouth from him now? She's quite fond of that little oh he let escape.]
No wonder all manner of beast wants to bite you.
[She laughs again, louder, nosing the love bite.]
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He shivers under her attention, tongue and lips and nose, and makes another sound of low contentment in the back of his throat. He can't see the mark without a mirror to aid him, but he can feel it, warm and pulsing. ]
...Should we take turns, or do you want to keep going?
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[That's all she'll say about the taking a bite out of him part, smiling as she leans back to look at him, a hand coming to rest against his neck so she can graze her thumb over the mark she's left. Maybe it shouldn't make her feel proud, but it does. Everyone will know who left it.
As for taking turns...]
You can't ask me to choose between two such desires. I'll be here forever, if you'll allow it, but I also want what I'm owed.
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For now: ] Well. I wouldn't want to keep you wanting.
[ Terminally incapable of not offering something he can give. He brackets Jill's face with his palm, keeping her steady with his warmth. ]
Can you stay still for me, my lady?
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