[Ramesses anticipated Chariot's kiss, but not her placement of the first or any that began to follow. There hadn't been any coaxing or encouragement from Ramesses, and she hadn't partaken of any liquid courage in the form of spiced wine. So, he expected her lips to find his. To start there and let him take the lead until she felt certain to take it from him.]
[But instead, her kisses are already hungry and pressed against his skin. And not in the sort of fashion where she seems to be testing her own limits with a quick press there before a sudden retreat to where she likely feels more certain in herself. Oh no, her mouth lingers instead. It's only for a moment to savor and then she presses on, but there is no uncertainty or attempts at retreating. Ramesses' hand finds her shoulder, fingers curling loosely as her mouth begins laying claim to the hard lines of his stomach. The lower she goes, the more the heat of her mouth sets his skin abuzz with warmth and his breathing begins to shift. His other hand cradles the back of her head, but he does not urge her on any further than that, allowing himself to be pliant to her seduction.]
[ The idea was less straying from what affection felt safe to her, but more to expand that feeling of comfort. She wanted to look past the horizon, and find the 'sun'. His touch, the sound of his breath, guided her along, but she still knew what she wanted, at the end of her journey.
Settling on her knees, she turned her eyes up to his, pressing her hands against his thighs and splaying her fingers, running up the shower slicked skin to his his, and letting only her breath, for the moment, envelop his cock, feeling the heat of him on her cheeks, she was so close. ]
[A small shudder runs through him at the feel of her breath against his swollen cock. She is so close, and yet if it weren't for the feeling of her hands drifting along his thighs, he'd think she was impossibly far away. He holds her gaze when her eyes meet his. His eyes have long-since darkened with desire and his hope to feel more than just her breath is apparent in his gaze, but he is not yet impatient. Rather, he is savoring and lingering every sensation, and happy with merely anticipating what is to come next rather than trying to urge it along.]
[ Chariot's motions were slow, deliberate, but everything also carried with it an energy of pure reverence... like his body was something holy to her, an alter, and she was praying with her hands, the cadence of her breath...
Her tongue soon joined the ritual, just the tip lightly gliding along from the base of his length, just barely to the tip before she with drew and once more let a heated exhale cover him. ]
[So often when they are together like this, Ramesses is the one to offer his reverence to her and he treats her as though she is goddess incarnate. And in return, Chariot lets her need for him be known. Even when she opts to put on a performance for him, leaning into what she knows will be exciting to him and seeking out as much pleasure as possible, there's always a slight undercurrent of need to it.]
[Which is why this feels so different.]
[He's never demanded let alone asked for Chariot's worship. And what a feeling it is to have it now, not merely worshipping him as the sun, but her sun. He breathes her name as she traces his length with the tip of her tongue, fingers tightening their hold on her slightly with her exhale.]
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[But instead, her kisses are already hungry and pressed against his skin. And not in the sort of fashion where she seems to be testing her own limits with a quick press there before a sudden retreat to where she likely feels more certain in herself. Oh no, her mouth lingers instead. It's only for a moment to savor and then she presses on, but there is no uncertainty or attempts at retreating. Ramesses' hand finds her shoulder, fingers curling loosely as her mouth begins laying claim to the hard lines of his stomach. The lower she goes, the more the heat of her mouth sets his skin abuzz with warmth and his breathing begins to shift. His other hand cradles the back of her head, but he does not urge her on any further than that, allowing himself to be pliant to her seduction.]
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Settling on her knees, she turned her eyes up to his, pressing her hands against his thighs and splaying her fingers, running up the shower slicked skin to his his, and letting only her breath, for the moment, envelop his cock, feeling the heat of him on her cheeks, she was so close. ]
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Her tongue soon joined the ritual, just the tip lightly gliding along from the base of his length, just barely to the tip before she with drew and once more let a heated exhale cover him. ]
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[Which is why this feels so different.]
[He's never demanded let alone asked for Chariot's worship. And what a feeling it is to have it now, not merely worshipping him as the sun, but her sun. He breathes her name as she traces his length with the tip of her tongue, fingers tightening their hold on her slightly with her exhale.]