08-29-2024, 08:52 PM
It wasn’t a question she needed to hear the answer to from any sense of insecurity, it was just one she wanted to hear spoken aloud. A possessive smile parted the lips that met Roza’s a moment later. With the strong charge of emotion under the other girl’s skin, and the press of lust from the party above, she let herself become utterly consumed in the moment. For all Esper loved centre stage, Voxel was forgotten, though as it was he got quite the show. The high cradled her senses, and she was greedy for it: Roza the embodiment and muse for all her heightened perceptions.
Until something cut hot as a knife from somewhere in the rooms above.
A kernel of distinct pain blossomed and exploded inside, utterly distinct from the harmony of everything else. It was something Esper recognised only because the carnival lived in such close quarters, but it was the sharp twist of life and death which pulled the gasp from her. Roza covered the moment like the artist she was, but Esper was beholden to the sensations. It was isolated, a drop in the ocean compared to the rest of the party, but some feelings crowded all else out. Her gaze rose upwards, eyes blown to darkness, half intoxicated on the feel of it. Death drew like a black hole. Now the outside lust crawled like worms on a corpse.
She heard the whisper, but had trouble concentrating on the moment. As Roza commanded the spotlight, Esper ran a finger across the swell of her own lip. Fierce hunger rang hollow inside, insistent, confused, newborn impatient. Babies were selfish and all-consuming. They felt like little else but constant need, which was how she knew it could be nothing else despite the incongruity of the setting. She wished viciously that Roza could feel it as she did, for it would be sure to recoil her from ever allowing herself the condition, but Esper did not break her promises.
From the shadows her eerie gaze watched Roza kneel for Voxel like a siren, control sharp in her tone. Her invitation to a solution was still ringing softly in Esper’s ears, where the heat of breath and promise still lingered also. “We’ve felt his gift. Does he want to feel mine?” It sounded half-threat, which wasn’t incidental, for all Esper's sharply seductive smile. Better for him if he remembered the service he promised and did as he was instructed. Though the way she brushed the tip of her tongue against a fanged incisor as she stepped into the light of his power-flames likely did nothing for her trustworthiness. Gifts in Moscow could mean anything these days, after all. She tried to sort through for the nuances of Voxel’s reaction to their game, but the baby was so fucking annoying, and it was harder to differentiate between the multitude of sensations without touch.
Then something else pulled, but this time it was all singular, beautiful harmony. It turned her full around in surprise, eyes on the stairs from whence they’d come. Nothing natural did that, like a blanket of calm that made Esper want to sink to her own knees and exist only within it. Between that, the interloping impatience, and Roza’s whispered permission, Esper pushed out around her: an injection of the lust from upstairs, and a swift conclusion of satisfaction. It was a quick and violent mastery, and would catch them both quite breathless. Voxel should have been quicker to get out of his pants.
Meanwhile, Esper was starting back up the stairs, her hand outstretched behind her in invitation for Roza to follow.
Until something cut hot as a knife from somewhere in the rooms above.
A kernel of distinct pain blossomed and exploded inside, utterly distinct from the harmony of everything else. It was something Esper recognised only because the carnival lived in such close quarters, but it was the sharp twist of life and death which pulled the gasp from her. Roza covered the moment like the artist she was, but Esper was beholden to the sensations. It was isolated, a drop in the ocean compared to the rest of the party, but some feelings crowded all else out. Her gaze rose upwards, eyes blown to darkness, half intoxicated on the feel of it. Death drew like a black hole. Now the outside lust crawled like worms on a corpse.
She heard the whisper, but had trouble concentrating on the moment. As Roza commanded the spotlight, Esper ran a finger across the swell of her own lip. Fierce hunger rang hollow inside, insistent, confused, newborn impatient. Babies were selfish and all-consuming. They felt like little else but constant need, which was how she knew it could be nothing else despite the incongruity of the setting. She wished viciously that Roza could feel it as she did, for it would be sure to recoil her from ever allowing herself the condition, but Esper did not break her promises.
From the shadows her eerie gaze watched Roza kneel for Voxel like a siren, control sharp in her tone. Her invitation to a solution was still ringing softly in Esper’s ears, where the heat of breath and promise still lingered also. “We’ve felt his gift. Does he want to feel mine?” It sounded half-threat, which wasn’t incidental, for all Esper's sharply seductive smile. Better for him if he remembered the service he promised and did as he was instructed. Though the way she brushed the tip of her tongue against a fanged incisor as she stepped into the light of his power-flames likely did nothing for her trustworthiness. Gifts in Moscow could mean anything these days, after all. She tried to sort through for the nuances of Voxel’s reaction to their game, but the baby was so fucking annoying, and it was harder to differentiate between the multitude of sensations without touch.
Then something else pulled, but this time it was all singular, beautiful harmony. It turned her full around in surprise, eyes on the stairs from whence they’d come. Nothing natural did that, like a blanket of calm that made Esper want to sink to her own knees and exist only within it. Between that, the interloping impatience, and Roza’s whispered permission, Esper pushed out around her: an injection of the lust from upstairs, and a swift conclusion of satisfaction. It was a quick and violent mastery, and would catch them both quite breathless. Voxel should have been quicker to get out of his pants.
Meanwhile, Esper was starting back up the stairs, her hand outstretched behind her in invitation for Roza to follow.