when her soft hands take his own callused ones, it elicits a grin from the turncoat. king flashes his teeth in anticipation, but the glint in his eyes are from his own amusement.
[break][break]
even now, laid bare before him, the queen of dragons feels shy. like a hammer striking molten iron, he would bang that out of her.
[break][break]
"as you wish, princess."
[break][break]
he reaches out for her trailing hand and guides it further down and to the band of his joggers. unlike her approach, he leaves it there at the boundary, removing his touch from hers.
[break][break]
"take what's yers then," he coaxes onwards, lips parted in a now coy smile.

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

her nose scrunches. "i told you. i'm not a princess." but his hands are drawing hers nearer. her blush deepens and she stops talking before she starts stammering. instead of drawing back, or drawing him in, she leans forward, embracing the heat that's starting to rise between them - reminiscent of their union several nights prior. 

take what's yours. like a dragon might collect for its hoard. hitched fingers, shaking legs, she removes the boundaries and space between them to do just that.

KING WAYLAND

☉