The realisation hit her as sharp as a slap; she was so fucked.
It was so much easier to disentangling herself back home with the thought that her adventuring party might stumble upon her in an indelicate state or that any moment she might be called upon to save them from the horrors of social interactions. That's why the few stolen moments of trysting with strangers had been her seizing a rare opportunity when she knew she wouldn't be disturbed. Quick in, swifter out and never see the poor victim of her tension relief again. Her party were none the wiser - assuming she had gone to commune with her patron.
But in this moment she was fucking ravenous for the taste of Ianthe's mouth against hers and too deep to snap herself back into short order. Her short fingernails dug crescent moons against Ianthe's hip, raking the flesh as Peony struggled to disengage. It would be so easy to give in. So quick. So painless. She could make amends, she could beg for her patron's forgiveness for her transgression, kneel at her feet and explain herself. Surely after six months of Titania's absence, the great fey could be convinced that it was a momentary slip rather than a deliberate slight upon their long and powerful pact. Her thigh tensed between Ianthe's legs and the whim of bending her over and making her scream and come with fingers and tongue prophesised to her in a powerful urge. Blonde hair scattered against pale flesh, thighs shaking with overstimulation and need for release, both of their bodies entwined and pressed together as they--
A powerful chill entered Peony's heart as a moment of stark clarity descended. She could never betray her pact. Could never betray her Ladyship. Peony tilted her head to the left to end it abruptly, pink in the cheeks and lips rosy from being kissed. Her green eyes lit with a bioluminescent glow as she gave Ianthe a mildly annoyed look. "Fucker." There was little venom or accusation in it. Merely the recognition that somehow Ianthe had gotten the better of her in that moment.
She had won the battle but that didn't mean she would win the war. Peony tipped her head forward, lowering her voice so that it slipped beneath the thrum of the crowd's chatter, meant for Ianthe's ears only. "Even though I am unable to indulge, I can still give you pleasure. Bring you to your knees, unable to stand, exhaust the flesh and mind with ecstasy. You wouldn't be the first I've slaked my passions on. Far from it."
no subject
It was so much easier to disentangling herself back home with the thought that her adventuring party might stumble upon her in an indelicate state or that any moment she might be called upon to save them from the horrors of social interactions. That's why the few stolen moments of trysting with strangers had been her seizing a rare opportunity when she knew she wouldn't be disturbed. Quick in, swifter out and never see the poor victim of her tension relief again. Her party were none the wiser - assuming she had gone to commune with her patron.
But in this moment she was fucking ravenous for the taste of Ianthe's mouth against hers and too deep to snap herself back into short order. Her short fingernails dug crescent moons against Ianthe's hip, raking the flesh as Peony struggled to disengage. It would be so easy to give in. So quick. So painless. She could make amends, she could beg for her patron's forgiveness for her transgression, kneel at her feet and explain herself. Surely after six months of Titania's absence, the great fey could be convinced that it was a momentary slip rather than a deliberate slight upon their long and powerful pact. Her thigh tensed between Ianthe's legs and the whim of bending her over and making her scream and come with fingers and tongue prophesised to her in a powerful urge. Blonde hair scattered against pale flesh, thighs shaking with overstimulation and need for release, both of their bodies entwined and pressed together as they--
A powerful chill entered Peony's heart as a moment of stark clarity descended. She could never betray her pact. Could never betray her Ladyship. Peony tilted her head to the left to end it abruptly, pink in the cheeks and lips rosy from being kissed. Her green eyes lit with a bioluminescent glow as she gave Ianthe a mildly annoyed look. "Fucker." There was little venom or accusation in it. Merely the recognition that somehow Ianthe had gotten the better of her in that moment.
She had won the battle but that didn't mean she would win the war. Peony tipped her head forward, lowering her voice so that it slipped beneath the thrum of the crowd's chatter, meant for Ianthe's ears only. "Even though I am unable to indulge, I can still give you pleasure. Bring you to your knees, unable to stand, exhaust the flesh and mind with ecstasy. You wouldn't be the first I've slaked my passions on. Far from it."