Post by Penelope Blaise on Oct 30, 2015 12:06:46 GMT
FtB
Every remaining layer was removed, much thanks to the way she had turned to work in her favor, yet the moment they were tossed out of the way, Penelope felt sudden pressure to her own form as she was drawn so close where she was actually sitting on top of the thief's lap.
She sucked in a breath of surprise, her hands naturally falling to the woman's shoulders. It wasn't long before they found the line of dark hair, fingers curling into it tightly with the desperate need to hold on.
Because her forehead was pressed against a stranger's, and despite knowing so little about this woman, there was a magnetic draw to her that Penelope couldn't find the means to escape.
Lucy wasn't outwardly known to be gentle or generous. They were two traits that could never go well for her in the light of day, not with the people she ran with or the world she did so well. But now, clever hands were practically fastened to her form to provide a silent belief that no, she shouldn't move away. It wasn't what she wanted.
But shifting her head slightly, she lowered her gaze a touch. Minimal light gave little articulation to bare skin, but she looked all the same. She could still feel the brush of hot air against her cheeks as she tilted her head to one side. Parted lips brushed across her collarbone lightly, tracking along before she applied barely significant pressure to the dark spot beneath her shoulder.
Last Edit: Nov 11, 2015 4:35:35 GMT by Lucy Serrano
Post by Penelope Blaise on Oct 30, 2015 19:35:23 GMT
With her own eyes squeezed shut tightly, Penelope hadn't the chance to see the way she looked downward. She could, however, feel the attentive way this stranger's lips danced across her skin. Penelope tilted her head back a fraction as if she could somehow encourage the other woman's movements even more.
She was attentive, too. Fingertips ran through her hair, dragging the dark locks up and over towards one side, although it'd take more than just a single run to fix the way they had become so disheveled.
Following through the motion again, this time she made no attempt to break the silence as she had thought to previously, instead listening to the series of shallow breaths between them.
An unfamiliar hand tracked itself through the naturally messy nature of Lucy's hair, not once but twice to try and restore some kind of order. Were she not so transfixed on where she was, she might have laughed to herself at the trial. Instead, she applied equally light pressure with her lips for a second time. And on the third connection, she couldn't help the way she lingered within it.
And then she created a slow trail back across her shoulder and to the base of her neck. Each point was as precise as she could make it despite the still-shallow nature of each breath she took in tandem with the connections. Slow to move and equally slow to savour each morsel she was allowed to have before she might be forced away.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Oct 31, 2015 2:54:20 GMT
With every slow, precise ounce of pressure that was pressed to her skin, Penelope felt her comfort grow with the a woman she barely knew. Enough trust to allow herself in such an entirely raw state; completely vulnerable. It was dangerous, borderline stupid, but more, it was intoxicating. How did a stranger have such an effect over the girl who had no interest in anyone?
Unfamiliar lips found the curve of her neck once again, and Penelope sucked in a slow breath, wondering if she could feel its wavering nature against her mouth. Rather than questioning it, she tilted her head down. A hand pressed against her cheek, light pressure beckoning her back up. As much as she wished to continue the contact that made her head spin, the need to catch her lips again was overwhelming.
For Lucy, it felt like a rarity to have time on her side. Things were always in motion, and as such extra seconds were almost unheard of. Stalling to a halt, equally so. It wasn't so odd to find general comfort in the company of a stranger; often times, such things prevailed because the world carried an overarching sense of loneliness. The city was lonely. And while that was okay - and people by proxy felt okay with it - it wasn't always so easy to handle. To hide.
She had those seconds, fleeting as they could have been. And she took them accordingly. Small points of pivotal contact to remember what the body she held onto felt like in different ways. Was it worth remembering? There was no profound sense of longevity as a hand pressed to her cheek. Not as fingers curled beneath her jaw to lightly draw her away. It was the kind of action that forced her to hold her breath, if only because it was every possible indicator that enveloping was too much, too soon. Like stepping back to basics when she'd already skipped them twice.
But questioning eyes were never met, and instead she found defined reassurance in the form of another kiss. There was something almost mortifyingly intoxicating about the point, enough to force her to twist her own body and ease her back down against her bed.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Nov 1, 2015 2:29:15 GMT
Penelope was entirely unaware of the confusion she might have caused. Her own mind hadn't humored the idea of pushing this stranger away. Not when her heart was still jumping, and not while she still held on so intently. So she found her lips, applying gentle enough pressure to draw out the connection.
However, it was cut short as Penelope sucked in a sharp breath in a small break, because suddenly familiar hands were lifting her own form enough to move it. Within the next moment, her back hit the makeshift bed again.
The moment she regained her composure, she tilted her head forward to kiss the thief again, just as again her hands found her back, fingertips tracing down along her spine and back up again, if only to try and memorize the form under her palms.
Still, Lucy had found no resistance. Every passing second built a strange concept that she would have stumbled over had she the time to consider it. Any moment could have been forced to a sudden halt, she was sure, and operating underneath that assumption kept her sharply on her toes. But she was slowly starting to develop the idea that that wasn't going to happen. That she didn't need to worry. Thankful, then, that she had no time to think in either direction.
Hands were tracking across her own form like it was worth remembering, but she couldn't let that need keep her stagnant. She pointedly kissed her mouth again, allowing the drawn out nature to fill a spare set of seconds. Because in another moment she shifted downwards, lips traversing from the curve of her neck to her collarbone, then slowly down her chest.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Nov 2, 2015 3:15:28 GMT
FtB
While she lost the stranger's lips, there was a moment of panic where Penelope believed she was drawing away. Where her palms pressed desperately against the back she wasn't quite ready to let go of, but when contact came again at her collarbone, relief sank into her lungs with a short exhale. Her grip loosened, only to tighten again inevitably on the blankets under her form.
Because again her head was spinning, fast enough where this time she was unsure if she could make any sort of recovery. Little sound could manage to pass her lips, but the heavy breathing that echoed through the library was enough to say she had no desire to stop.
While her eyes were squeezed shut tight, Penelope was too breathless to offer anything significant. Her mind too blank.
Again Lucy found herself completely lost, guided then by the sound of staggered, shallow breaths. It was far easier to follow physical cues than it was to allow herself to question just why she had come back in the first place. Why panic had hit her hours ago when she arrived to find no one. Why she was so hell bent on her safety.
One hand to the bed and she forced herself up, enough to look down at the eyes she couldn't see, her free hand raking back the locks of hair that might obstruct her staring. Because she took the opportunity to let her gaze wander again, following the trajectory she had only just taken.
"I'm gonna stay." Lucy said, as if she felt the need to do so. And it was true; with it felt something a little more weighted than she expected. She didn't have to be so willing in order to keep the thief in her company.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Nov 3, 2015 19:47:01 GMT
Contact was very suddenly gone, and Penny had kept her eyes closed for moments longer, unaware of how she looked. Instead, she hoped to feel her again. What was she to do if she were to open her eyes and see her leaving? Her chest tightened at the thought. Why did she want her to stay so badly? Why did she let this happen? Most of all, Penelope could not figure out why she wasn't regretting letting a stranger earn the title of something so personal.
With accented words, she opened her eyes to catch those that were as dark as her own. Eyebrows rose with hints of surprise, but there was hardly anything negative about her expression. Instead, she pressed her palm against the blankets, easing herself up enough to bring herself closer to her.
"I'm glad." Penny offered quietly. Genuinely comforted by the notion of having company, specifically by knowing she was to stay. It had little to do with the idea that this woman wanted to protect her. Really, the Brit had yet to really know why her heart was pounding so fast at all.
Her free hand reached out, fingers tracing along the length of the strangers jaw as she beckoned her closer.
From her better vantage point, Lucy could properly look at the person beneath her. She could take the expressions she wore as they were; shorter moments meant only for the eyes of a relative stranger who had somehow made it this far. One who had somehow proven something of significance.
And then that distance was breached by the way she hauled herself up to meet Lucy. But in her own mind, her point still standed. She didn't know at any of this meant, but she knew the difference between meaningless and meaningful.
Features softened naturally when fingertips brushed across her jaw. For someone who knew what to say so frequently, she was at a sudden loss for words, too. "It's hard to stop." She finally breathed, yet to be drawn in by the hand that seemed to will it.
Post by Penelope Blaise on Nov 6, 2015 15:50:36 GMT
For someone who appeared to have such a hardened exterior, the softened expression that this stranger wore felt practically raw as her fingertips chased the line of her jaw. Dark eyes collided with those equally so, and for the myriad of questions that crossed her mind over this woman, she couldn't find the means to ask them. Because there was some strange, mutual understanding in the silence between them. Because it was hard to stop.
Her fingertips crossed under dark locks, curling with gentle pressure behind the thief's neck. It was hard to stop, and for someone who had only had her first kiss two days prior, it was impossible to fully understand the drive she felt over the stranger. Her lips pressed against hers again as she pulled her closer.
Though everything was muddled and undefined, Lucy was still searching for clarity. She wanted to understand the reason behind why this perfect stranger was somehow able to build and maintain a connection with her. She was so willing to allow Lucy time and an uncontrollable amount of trust. It was strange. She practically needed to know why it was so.
She allowed herself to be drawn in closer, because it seemed fair and right enough to follow through with any desire she carried. There was no point denying or arguing with her; she carried the kind of magnetism Lucy found impossible to ignore for long.
And who was she to rightly ignore the evident needs of a person? One who seemed so intent to keep her overnight. Lucy kissed her back likely far too intensely for her own good, but reason always failed when a pulse ran so high. It was harsh enough to make her head spin, she was sure. Her free hand reached back, fingers curling the wrist of the hand that held the back of her neck. Easing it forward, she tilted her head and pressed her lips against her palm instead. Then again. And at the third connection, she couldn't help but linger.