CYNG | THE SOLOMON SOVEREIGN"Though I'm not off-put by your candor, I find a nice chat to be fairly memorable too. The point of nibbling is a bit of a tease, right? I hope one of the things you can show me is how to do so with more than just your teeth."
On top of her usual amused grin, Cyng's eyes moved around Mirja's body, as if to outline her shape with her eyes before focusing on Mirja's lips. In the moment, Cyng set down the glasses of wine onto a bar-table beneath the shelves of the assorted beverages, then leaning into Mirja's face as she spoke, and at just a few inches distance from the wolf-girl, Cyng continued."I feel you're the type of woman that can match me, and nothing would please me more than for you to meet these expectations."
The sovereign's words whispered out like a snake as the breath from her lips reached Mirja's own. Cyng's words, her air, and the heat from her mouth reached out to Mirja, and from Cyng's skin a soft, lavender scent. It was as if everything from Cyng's body were stronger, and to someone with senses as sensitive as Mirja, this was particularly potent. The movements of the Queen's lips slid across each other with moisture, and the warmth from her words were humid, as if it were a pant.
And from there, Cyng separated from her new friend and drank a bit of her wine. It was as if all of the sensuality in her demeanor was a lie. The scent was gone, the distance between the two made it impossible to feel her warmth, to hear with such clarity the moisture on her lips and humid breath."Well, drinking certainly isn't for everyone, though it's a shame--I think your unbridled strength would make for some interesting... handling."
Cyng finished her glass and placed it down onto the table, the empty glass placed right next to the other still filled glass. Once done, Cyng once more turned around and walked away from the wolf-girl, but as she did so, the woman's hand rose to slide across Mirja's neck, from the clavicle to her chin, as if to beckon her.
Cyng walked to the end of her bed, appropriately King-sized for a plethora of wide-ranging activities, with a modest canopy and gossamer silk curtains to cover the sides of the bed, rolled up to the top for the time being. The silver-haired woman sat at the end of her bed and proper her hands behind her in for a relaxed posture, the usual amused smile, though this time hinting at some anticipation and longing."By the way, I didn't say you had to put your clothes back on to come in. It was a shame that such a sculpture had to be covered up--especially that tail. I never got to touch it after all. Would you mind showing it to me?"
END POST | THE WHITE RIDER