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Poison - 2 Drabbles
Back while I was still writing Poison, Kitty made me write these ^__^ Now they finally see the light of day.
Wet Kitty
“I think perhaps you’d do better to try this instead,” Gael said, pointing further down the list. “Look at the numbers in this instance. Compare to yours.” He pointed further up. “Have you spoken with—“ He sensed his lover right at Seraphin’s eyes widened, and something very much like hunger overtook the Mongoose’s face.
Gael turned to see what all the fuss was about…and barely noticed as the papers he’d been holding slid from his hands.
Noire strolled through the grand entryway, trialing water everywhere, oblivious to his surroundings as he fought with his wet clothes and disentangled some sort of weed from his hair.
He was completely soaked, head to toe, dark hair plastered to his skull…clothes nearly looking painted on. When Noire had put those breeches on that morning, Gael had not thought they could be any more form-fitting.
Merciful gods other than him…
Absently he sent out a compulsion, barely noticing as Seraphin chuckled before departing, eyes only for the utterly sinful appearance of his lover. He wore black, as always, but the fabric was so light and thin that it left very little to the imagination.
Gael wanted to devour him.
Noire saw him right before Gael shoved him against the nearest wall, gasping in surprise as Gael’s teeth immediately went to his throat, and a question stuttered to a moan as knowing hands rubbed the fabric of his wet shirt against his nipples, across his stomach. “G-Gael—“
“Kitten. You’re soaking wet.” Gael finally kissed him, tasting the river, a hint of sugar, and beneath it all the dark, warm flavor of his lover. Freeing Noire’s mouth, he trailed sharp, nipping kisses down that far too edible throat, interspersing the bites with laps of his tongue, tasting sweat along with drops of fresh water. He dropped his hands from Noire’s chest to rest briefly at his hips, jerking them close together, humming softly at the moan that earned him before letting his hands dip to explore further, utterly fascinated by the wet, too-tight pants and all that they revealed. The damp pants were cool from the still-cold river water, but beneath them Noire was hot to the touch.
Noire writhed and moaned in his arms. “Fishing with Ivan’s—Gael—the entrance—anyone—“
Gael kissed him again, cutting the protests short, then shifted to taste the soft skin of Noire’s ear, voice low and rough as he spoke again. “All the other rooms in the palace, Kitten, but not the entryway?”
His only response was another moan, Noire completely lost to the touches with which Gael attacked him.
He sorely wanted to tear the clothes away, but part of him was still utterly enthralled at the way the damp fabric clung. It was nearly as indecent as Noire walking around naked…perhaps more. Growling, Gael renewed his attack, wanting more, lapping up every groan, encouraging every jerk of those slender hips as Noire silently begged for more.
“Now, Kitten,” Gael breathed, biting down on his throat, lapping at the mark left behind as Noire shuddered in his arms. “Mmm…you are perfection.”
“Gael…” Noire’s hands moved heavily over him, seeking to return the pleasure, but his eyes were already drooping, and Gael realized suddenly he must be exhausted if he’d gotten so carried away with Ivan’s men that they’d managed to get him into the river.
“Shh, Kitten. Time for a nap, hmm?”
“S’why I came home…then you attacked me…” Noire smiled sleepily and nuzzled into him, already half-asleep now that Gael had mentioned a nap.
Gael chuckled and lifted Noire up, then turned toward the hallway that would lead to his rooms. “It’s your fault entirely for walking in practically begging to be taken, Kitten.”
A sleepy chuckle was his reply, warm lips brushing across his throat. “If I was begging to be taken, Gael, then why didn’t you take me?”
“When we get to the bedroom, Kitten,” Gael said, deciding abruptly a nap could wait a little while longer.
Catnip
Noire stirred in the sunlight, purrs dying as he realized something in the air had changed. He slowly opened his eyes, catching the scent of his lover…and something else. His eyes widened as the scent lodged in his nostrils.
Hopping down from the window seat in which he’d been napping, he stalked across the room on silent feet, crouching down low, tensing…and pounced Gael as his lover entered the bedroom.
“Kitten! What!”
Noire pawed and nosed at his lover, the scent driving him crazy. Maddening. What was what? Gael always smelled good but this was…what…purring loudly he continued to explore his lover.
“Shift, Noire,” Gael said, putting a gentle compulsion behind it.
Obediently Noire did so, but didn’t let him go, holding Gael’s arms down, obsessed, eyes dilated as he explored every inch of skin and velvet. “Gael…” He growled low in frustration as he realized he couldn’t open buttons while his hands held Gael’s down, and he couldn’t find the source of that scent without opening buttons, and if he let go Gael would get the upper hand and distract him and—
The world spun and Noire landed with an oomph on his back, arms pinned above his head, Gael’s hair spilling down to surround them. “Kitten. What in the world?”
“The smell,” Noire said with a groan, fighting the tight grip on his wrists, writhing and twisting on the carpet, arching up desperate for a touch, a kiss, anything. That scent. “Gael, please.”
“Are you begging, Kitten?” Gael asked, the amusement gone from his voice, replaced immediately by a heat that made Noire shiver and ache.
“Yes. Gael, please. I want. Need.”
Gael chuckled softly and obliged, leaning down to kiss him breathless, free hand moving to open Noire’s clothes. “I think I know what those brats of Ivan’s ‘accidentally spilled on me’ now. I shall have to thank them.”
Noire thought briefly to ask, but another hard, hungry kiss stopped all thought, and Gael’s too-clever hands rapidly made him forget what the question had been.
Wet Kitty
“I think perhaps you’d do better to try this instead,” Gael said, pointing further down the list. “Look at the numbers in this instance. Compare to yours.” He pointed further up. “Have you spoken with—“ He sensed his lover right at Seraphin’s eyes widened, and something very much like hunger overtook the Mongoose’s face.
Gael turned to see what all the fuss was about…and barely noticed as the papers he’d been holding slid from his hands.
Noire strolled through the grand entryway, trialing water everywhere, oblivious to his surroundings as he fought with his wet clothes and disentangled some sort of weed from his hair.
He was completely soaked, head to toe, dark hair plastered to his skull…clothes nearly looking painted on. When Noire had put those breeches on that morning, Gael had not thought they could be any more form-fitting.
Merciful gods other than him…
Absently he sent out a compulsion, barely noticing as Seraphin chuckled before departing, eyes only for the utterly sinful appearance of his lover. He wore black, as always, but the fabric was so light and thin that it left very little to the imagination.
Gael wanted to devour him.
Noire saw him right before Gael shoved him against the nearest wall, gasping in surprise as Gael’s teeth immediately went to his throat, and a question stuttered to a moan as knowing hands rubbed the fabric of his wet shirt against his nipples, across his stomach. “G-Gael—“
“Kitten. You’re soaking wet.” Gael finally kissed him, tasting the river, a hint of sugar, and beneath it all the dark, warm flavor of his lover. Freeing Noire’s mouth, he trailed sharp, nipping kisses down that far too edible throat, interspersing the bites with laps of his tongue, tasting sweat along with drops of fresh water. He dropped his hands from Noire’s chest to rest briefly at his hips, jerking them close together, humming softly at the moan that earned him before letting his hands dip to explore further, utterly fascinated by the wet, too-tight pants and all that they revealed. The damp pants were cool from the still-cold river water, but beneath them Noire was hot to the touch.
Noire writhed and moaned in his arms. “Fishing with Ivan’s—Gael—the entrance—anyone—“
Gael kissed him again, cutting the protests short, then shifted to taste the soft skin of Noire’s ear, voice low and rough as he spoke again. “All the other rooms in the palace, Kitten, but not the entryway?”
His only response was another moan, Noire completely lost to the touches with which Gael attacked him.
He sorely wanted to tear the clothes away, but part of him was still utterly enthralled at the way the damp fabric clung. It was nearly as indecent as Noire walking around naked…perhaps more. Growling, Gael renewed his attack, wanting more, lapping up every groan, encouraging every jerk of those slender hips as Noire silently begged for more.
“Now, Kitten,” Gael breathed, biting down on his throat, lapping at the mark left behind as Noire shuddered in his arms. “Mmm…you are perfection.”
“Gael…” Noire’s hands moved heavily over him, seeking to return the pleasure, but his eyes were already drooping, and Gael realized suddenly he must be exhausted if he’d gotten so carried away with Ivan’s men that they’d managed to get him into the river.
“Shh, Kitten. Time for a nap, hmm?”
“S’why I came home…then you attacked me…” Noire smiled sleepily and nuzzled into him, already half-asleep now that Gael had mentioned a nap.
Gael chuckled and lifted Noire up, then turned toward the hallway that would lead to his rooms. “It’s your fault entirely for walking in practically begging to be taken, Kitten.”
A sleepy chuckle was his reply, warm lips brushing across his throat. “If I was begging to be taken, Gael, then why didn’t you take me?”
“When we get to the bedroom, Kitten,” Gael said, deciding abruptly a nap could wait a little while longer.
Catnip
Noire stirred in the sunlight, purrs dying as he realized something in the air had changed. He slowly opened his eyes, catching the scent of his lover…and something else. His eyes widened as the scent lodged in his nostrils.
Hopping down from the window seat in which he’d been napping, he stalked across the room on silent feet, crouching down low, tensing…and pounced Gael as his lover entered the bedroom.
“Kitten! What!”
Noire pawed and nosed at his lover, the scent driving him crazy. Maddening. What was what? Gael always smelled good but this was…what…purring loudly he continued to explore his lover.
“Shift, Noire,” Gael said, putting a gentle compulsion behind it.
Obediently Noire did so, but didn’t let him go, holding Gael’s arms down, obsessed, eyes dilated as he explored every inch of skin and velvet. “Gael…” He growled low in frustration as he realized he couldn’t open buttons while his hands held Gael’s down, and he couldn’t find the source of that scent without opening buttons, and if he let go Gael would get the upper hand and distract him and—
The world spun and Noire landed with an oomph on his back, arms pinned above his head, Gael’s hair spilling down to surround them. “Kitten. What in the world?”
“The smell,” Noire said with a groan, fighting the tight grip on his wrists, writhing and twisting on the carpet, arching up desperate for a touch, a kiss, anything. That scent. “Gael, please.”
“Are you begging, Kitten?” Gael asked, the amusement gone from his voice, replaced immediately by a heat that made Noire shiver and ache.
“Yes. Gael, please. I want. Need.”
Gael chuckled softly and obliged, leaning down to kiss him breathless, free hand moving to open Noire’s clothes. “I think I know what those brats of Ivan’s ‘accidentally spilled on me’ now. I shall have to thank them.”
Noire thought briefly to ask, but another hard, hungry kiss stopped all thought, and Gael’s too-clever hands rapidly made him forget what the question had been.