Her touch was likened to embers enkindled upon a bed of ice, a velvet kiss of dulcet fingers placating the anxious want of avaricous skin that had craved this gossamer touch.  A wanton hunger gnawing on the pit of his soul with gnarled teeth and unrelenting anguish.  Nearly a year he'd starved for it - for her - but had been left with the cold chill of absence.  A grim reminder, a sorrow chased away by the angular curve of her shoulder, the ample swells between and the humming thrum of her heart beneath.  Could that soft hand feel the way his beat in turn?  Racing like a rabbit's nose; screaming in his ears.  A siren's harrowing call lost in a tumoiltuous sea of sensation. "You need rest."  Shuddering breath betrayed that demure whisper.  Asmodeus smiled with certainty, an intimate knowing of what genuinely brewed within that intention.  Asmodeus pulled the quilt away from the space beside him and invited her to fill that void.  Though the bed was smaller than the one back at their destroyed estate, it was space enough for them to share - if not more inviting to do so. "I will."  He cooed back. Burly frame layed entirely flat on the mattress with eyes trained on the wooden ceiling above.  Though it was veiled by darkness, he could still make out some of the grain work and craftsmanship that went into her little abode.  How much had it cost her?  Ah, a though unworthy of the time.  With a heavy sigh, Asmodeus turned to face her, blue eyes gentle as they touched the curve of those warm cheeks and the violet ring of her alluring iris.  "But while we were apart I found out that I don't quite like sleeping alone."  He turned on his side to better watch the seraphic guise of his sorely missed wife, a face that he'd touch with startling gentleness.  "Rest with me."

Poltergeist Tombstone; Pads of her fingertips gently lingered. Ensuring the needed affirmation of his presence despite the gnarled, cruel whispers of doubt that dared to still fester her conscious. Fine hairs stood, otherwise goosebumps sending what felt like a long forgotten sensation down to her core. Poltergeist could feel the thrum of his beating heart, the heat of his flesh before ruefully met with the absent chill as she reluctantly withdrew her hand. He needed to rest and she could not bring it upon herself to be the cause of further distraction even if she could not in that moment, rightfully find the will to leave him be. I will. Came his promise. Instead, the mattress groaned, agitated by the movement as the healer watched her husband pull away the neatly made quilt exposing an empty space at his side. … while we were apart I found out that I don't quite like sleeping alone. Poltergeist chuffed back that rare – albeit ever present – genuine laughter that threatened her vocals. He’d managed to get a smile out of her, lowering her head as if to hide such an expression. She would wonder if he was truly the fierce wolf she’d come to love and adore – when in truth he was as sly as a fox when it came to his words. Rest with me. Lavender was met with deep, oceanic sapphire then to the vacant space next to her husband. “Alright.” She relented. “But just for a little while.” As she knew she needed to get back to her labors despite the fact that they could very much wait. Poltergeist then stood only for a moment before returning to claim the space in bed next to her bare-chested husband. She curled up next to him, offering gentle nuzzles against him; “Better now?” "Speech" ooc: -x-

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Inevitably the sweet dove relented to the persistent request as she was prone when faced with those pleading eyes and soft encouragement, tender promises shared through a lifetime of bliss.  Asmodeus couldn’t help the smile that dressed his rugged mouth or the soft purr that rumbled in it, a delighted coo when the warmth of her body melded into him like the missing piece of an unfinished puzzle.  Her clothes were soft beneath his fingers that trailed along the small of her back, a demanding arm pulling her taut against his body. He’d missed this.  Missed it more than he’d ever admit to her or anyone else.  “Much better.”  He murmured.  Dark lashes fell over the blue of his gaze that welcomed the encroaching darkness that threatened to claim this tender moment.  Adoring kisses chased away the threatening tides of sleep as he placed them along her crown, the dip of her temple and the soft curve of her forehead.  It was demanding the way he kissed her, touched her, and embraced this ancient longing that had been awakened despite the howling protest of his throbbing head.  A final doting affection was given again to her crown of ebony hair where the scent of lavender plumed in his nose like a fresh bouquet. “Gods I've missed you.”  His voice was a husky purr against the coils of her hair.

Poltergeist Tombstone; She felt his arm snake around her, pulling her in flush against him. Warmth enveloped her as it did previously tangled in his embrace. It was moments like this, where time simply didn’t matter. Nothing else around them – mattered. After all that they had endured, all she wanted was to just simply remained wrapped by his warm embrace. Much better. Her blush-colored lips gently tugged into a bashful smirk. Even married, he still managed to make her cheeks flush as if they were new couples. Poltergeist welcomed his kisses, craved for them even more. The healer in her wanted to protest that this wasn’t exactly what she meant by him needing his rest. All the same, there was another that brazenly longed for more. But that felt greedy, wrong even too. Gods I’ve missed you. came that husky tremor. Lilac gaze peered up from where she lay, snuggled warmly against her husband. “I’ve missed you more.” Her clothes felt, warmer – almost too warm and uncomfortable but could not find the means to protest or complain. “How’s your head?” the question escaped, unable to restrain such habits as concern still bit at her nerves. It was just a hangover, though. She sought for his lips with her own with a longing gentleness, as those theoretical burning embers slowly begin to grow. "Speech" ooc: -x-

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There was an orchestra in the way she breathed, in the pulse of her heart throbbing against the rise and fall of her ample chest cradled against the naked stretch of his wanting skin.  Her body was living poetry written with flesh and blood.  Lo', maiden fair, crafted from the fevered dreams of a wanting man who dared became a vision of Venus in envy for none could compare.  What beauty lay beneath the wild tresses of raven hair, angular jaw, pert nose a vision of feminine charm and oh how he'd missed it so.  Missed her beyond the scope of words.  "I've missed you more."  A lie but Asmodeus wouldn't challenge it.  There came no retort, only a soft hum purring from the rugged sprawl of his lips.  A familiar melody shared in their quiet moments, the lulling depths of the encroaching night.  "How's your head?"  "Well enough."  Husky drawl plumed against her mouth that sought his taste, and he'd relent to her loving claim while melting against the whole of her lithe frame.  Gentle pleading, a familiar sensation that set his body aflame with the rising cinder of passion that began to pulse throughout his veins.  Each place their bodies touch sparked beneath his skin, reminding him of the life that still roared in her body.  Ivory teeth nipped at the generous swell of her bottom lip before tugging it with a low growl rumbling deeply from his throat.  Broad, calloused hand brazenly lowered itself to the round of her backside, squeezing it roughly while pulling her flush against his hips and the growing jut between.  Asmodeus released her lips just enough to speak. "If you keep kissing me like that, little dove, I will fuck you."  A crude growl hissed from his grinning lips that roamed the arch of her tempting ear.  "Or is that what you want?"  He asked while his middle finger glissaded along the curve of her buttocks and dipped between her thighs from behind to tease, to gingerly caress her clothed maidenhead.

Poltergeist Tombstone; In her lilac eyes, he was true masterpiece. A delicacy that she could never get enough of. All the same, she questioned if she was ever truly worthy of his proud presence. Delicate fingers gently traced down the wall of his torso, outlining every fine detail of his well-worn canvas. Scars of old and new that told a plethora of his stories just as her own had. This was real—he was real which was that gentle reminder. The heat of his breath brushing against her lips settled the voiced concern while causing skin to pleasantly crawl. Each touch was like a spark, a gentle clashing friction to kindle. The start of a flame with low-burning cinders. Enough to warm, gradually getting warmer and warmer. A wolfish coo bubbled from her throat in response grazing teeth upon her lip. A girlish gasp hitched her throat following the slight arch of her frame tilting upward, aligning with him. She felt her jaw inadvertently tighten in the gentle grind against him feeling the swell between toned thighs. Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, biting back a hiss that threatened to escape upon the release of her lips. If you keep kissing me like that, little dove, I will fuck you. He sent shivers delightfully down her spine whilst an impish tug of her lips curled. Or is that what you want? he went exploring, adventuring the clothes that dressed her yet still managed to find the delicate flower hidden beneath the wall of fabric. A heady shudder cooed in a heated exhale. “Is that a threat, or a promise love?” she retaliated back. One hand slipping down his toned abdomen trailing further before finding purchase of his hardened member with a careful ensnare of her digits in a single stroke. "Speech" ooc: -x-

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Beneath the exploration of those dulcet fingers, he forgot how to breathe.  Asmodeus found himself forgetting all else but the sensation of her delicate touch roving against his naked skin akin to velvet, the trouncing waves careening over his flesh, the kinetic emotion roused within that sea of sensations threatening to pull him beneath their waiting depths.  Lo', such tender adoration.  Could those fingertips feel how his heart lurched with wild fervour in his chest like a violent sonata of impassioned want?  He finally drew in a deep, heady breath that smelled of musk and lavender accompanied by ground herbs and subtle, warm spices.  Wood and flora alike mingled with the perfume that was uniquely hers.  A scent that could unravel him, unchain the cords of his temperance to unleash the smouldering beast of wanton lust.  Feral, bestial urge awakened to crawl languidly beneath his goose-pimpled skin till he feared it to burst.  Hangover be damned. "Is that a threat, or a promise love?"  Poltergeist's rebuke roused a rakishly slanted simper to his rugged mouth. "Fiesty sprite."  He teased while brushing the underside of her buttock with the pad of his thumb.  "Where is my timid wife?"  But he'd always known her to be anything but timid. She was brazen, brave, and spirited, unlike any woman he'd met.  Poltergeist was a marble statue of strength warring the beauty of Athenian grace and regality.  Her touch proved it in the way she grasped him, bewitching with a single stroke that forced the blue of his iris to hide behind the tightly closed line of his eyelids.  A volatile hiss turned to a whispering growl in his throat, a heavy breath pluming against the tempting curve of her mouth.  He couldn't restrain the way he bucked into her grasp, nor the way his fingers teased her, gingerly caressing the fabrics that kept her most intimate parts from his explorations.  Asmodeus kissed her with demanding insistence, with all the impassioned hunger of a man on the brink of starvation.

Poltergeist Tombstone; Just yesterday, Poltergeist was in her usual habits, drowning in her labors while trying to block those perfidious noises that wracked her mind. Voices that no other heard, shadows and demons that did not catch the eye of others but only her own. All because yesterday she was to believe her husband was dead. No longer able to be wrapped within his warm embrace as she was in this moment. Swimming in the heat of desire beneath the sheets that otherwise remained unbothered. Feisty sprite. There was curve to her lips in an impish smirk, a breathy wanting coo escaping. Where is my timid wife? “Trapped in these sweltering, suffocating clothes.” She stroked him once more following his sharp hiss. Poltergeist chuckled sheepishly which alone was a rare sound that seldom ever teased her vocals. His growl riled her, continuing her teasing efforts following the shift of his weight in response until she was met with a bruising kiss. She reciprocated, tongues entangling and teeth grazing. Heart racing and breath laboring. Her hand slowly withdrew from its purchase only in hopes to wrap her arms around him with a deepening kiss. “Undress me.” she whispers in the brief moment to catch her breath. "Speech" ooc: -x-

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His breath was heavy, heavy like the boulders that forged the wild, untamed mountain ranges of Klewyth and equally as unmoving in the pit of his lungs.  That soft hand used to mend the sick and broken wrought within him destruction.  Delicate hands that could not hold a sword - that could not bear the weight of malice - savagely ripped from his heart any lingering thought of modesty.  Asmodeus wanted to drown in the sweet ashes of her ruination.  The warmth of the embers, the way her touch caused his skin to shiver in excitement, and anticipation.  It took all his practised reservations to tame the feral beast she threatened to unleash, the wanton animal that would see her clothes torn and her body ravaged without a shred of mercy. But he wanted to savour this; her.  Relish himself in the way her black curls fell against the pillow, how her lips looked so lonely in the depths of his searching iris that honed upon that kiss-bruised arch.  It was all he could do not to meld into her kiss, to retain some sense of himself as she pressed harder with her tongue, her demanding affections that left him pulling away for breath. When he had finally released their lips and taken in that deep, lumbering breath, her command was simple enough to appease.  The pad of his thumb gingerly brushed away the strands of charcoal-coloured strays that infringed upon the pale curve of her soft cheek.  How could he have found pleasure in others when heaven laid here all along, ready for him to adore whenever he so desired?  His icy gaze swept along her face as if searching, wondering if she'd refuse him now and his heart ached at the thought of it. "Poltergeist..."  The gentle murmur of his voice breathed out along the curve of her jaw, the tempting curve of her neck.  "My dove."  As he lavished her neck in adoring kisses, tender nips and fevered licks trailing along the thrum of her pulse, the deft attempt of urgent fingers sought to unfasten the front of her dress and push it away from the bare curves that lie beneath and down to the arch of her hips.  A body he hadn't seen in months save for the impassioned torment of his fevered dreams.  Dreams where he thought her to eternally reside instead of here, again, in the adoring clutch of his arms.

Poltergeist Tombstone; He was the foundation upon which she stood. The sanity to calm the brewing storm that which often plagued her conscious whether he knew it or not. The tension that tightened muscle and joint had so seamlessly melted as she lay upon the sheets that were hardly touched – if at all used while she lay facing her king, capturing every waking detail she could marvel of him. From the enriched deep sapphire pools of his eyes to the messy waves of raven locks that seemed to compliment his five o’clock shadow. Old scars remained unchanged – if anything accompanied by some new. However, it was neither the time nor the place to raise concern now. The single sweep of his thumb across her cheek sent delightful shivers down her spine all the while tucking away raven curls. Demure lavender gaze softened as she was met with his own, genial curiosity wondering what lingered behind his glacial stare. She wondered, if briefly what lingered within his thoughts. Though she dare not question in fear of it dissolving like ash after a dying flame. The fear that her mind was just as cruel to maliciously tease and that he was nothing more than the yearning figment of imagination. However, it was the heat of his breath along the line of neckline and jaw as he whispered her name. “My raven.” provoked a shuddering exhale while subconsciously turning her head to expose more of her neck to him. She crooned in reply, seeking to wrap her freed arms around his sturdy frame whilst he worked to dismantle the very fabrics she begged to be removed. Chills crawled along flesh as her dress was shoved and she would effortlessly kick the remains away. Her scar-laden canvas otherwise bare, exposedfrom the plush, gently bouncing curve of her breast, the expanse of her stomach and down to bend of her hips. While it was certainly not the first time, Poltergeist couldn’t help but feel a rattle of her nerves rising and heat surface her cheeks just as if it was their first night together once upon a time ago. "Speech" ooc: -x-

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