transgressings | inbox for duplicity;

[ Most of the interior of the townhouse is dark; she keeps the lights off apart from those rooms that are currently in use, and the illumination from the bathroom spills into the hallway and down the main staircase, casting a faint golden glow over their surroundings. ]

You could never be thought of as an intrusion. [ She demurs after a moment, suddenly more aware of her current state of dress when Morgana's gaze begins its descent over her form, and has to resist the sudden urge to cross an arm over herself for fear it would only do more to emphasize the sheerness of the only garment covering her.

But inevitably, she steps back, letting the door fall open to afford the other woman entry into the house, only closing it behind them once they are both decisively ensconced. ] I was only about to prepare a bath, but... it is nothing that cannot be postponed for the unexpected delight of your company.

[ if morgana realizes that her own eyes have been caught, she makes no effort to conceal it, only strengthening her smile as she accepts the invitation to step inside. once she does, however, her eyes do shift to observe the house, dim as it is, impressed with its quaint but comfortable arrangement.

all the same, it is still the other woman that holds the weight of her interest, and she spins on her heel to look her way once more. ]

Then I came right on time. I'm sure your bath will feel much more exquisite with a bit of wine in that belly. [ shifting on her feet, the bottom lace of her dress sways across the floor as she roams to the nearest surface, placing the bottle upon it. ] And have you missed me?

[ A single eyebrow arches in consideration of Morgana's statement — perhaps the insinuation that there is no need for her to delay the taking of her bath after all, even with her anticipated company having just arrived.

The heavy door of the townhouse thuds shut behind them and in that moment it feels as though they are in their own world again, far removed from the eyes of this city, only the two of them in this intimate space that bears traces of her own tastes as well as the dear friend whose treasured items she had sought to rescue before she was evicted from the residence.

Her gaze follows — wordless at first, but unblinking, tracking the manner in which the other woman seems to glide effortlessly across the floor to relinquish her gift. ]

You ask a question you must already know the answer to. [ Her voice seems more hushed now — or perhaps she is merely rendered breathless by the way Morgana herself stands in the faint glow of the room, bathed in those dim golden hues and ink-black shadows. ] I have, my lady. Most certainly.

[ perhaps there is suggestion in her words, and if it is taken that way, then certainly all the better. she would prefer it known that she hardly merely came here for small chatter, though there still lies a multitude of reasons for her presence here. though she seeks to reignite a taste on her lips aside from the bottle she has brought, she also seeks to take this opportunity to better understand the woman who has seized her interest and curiosity.

as her fingers brush lightly across the counter tops, eyes peering to the arrangement of the room as if capable of telling a story, her mind remains filled with her questions, likely to be asked at a different minute than this one.

she smiles in admittance; of course she knows the answer, but how she does love to hear it. tilting her head, her hums playfully in her throat, gaze looking up and down at the other woman once more with satisfying admiration. ] Then you should show me just how much.

[ She will not make assumptions about Morgana's reasons for accepting her invitation; any motives the other woman has are of course her own, although Vanessa does harbor a hope, however slight it may be, that it was the prospect of being alone in her company that was ultimately the deciding factor, the aspect that tipped the scales toward her standing in this very room with the gift of wine and her presence.

She cannot help but note, with a small flicker of amusement, Morgana's similar predilection towards tactility, the light stroke of fingers against the dark wood, and thinks to a time when her own reticence at wearing gloves had been acknowledged at a party that feels like a lifetime ago, now.

The effort to close the space between them requires only a few strides forward, the gauzy fabric of her robe a light whisper as it swirls around her, otherwise silent on bare feet before pale fingers slide across the delicate curve of Morgana's jaw, her palm nudging there seconds before she brings their mouths together with a soft indraw of breath, surging in for a kiss with hunger rather than anything resembling timidness. ]

[ what fascination she holds for the interior design of this home, it isn't nearly enough to hold her attention away from something far more tempting. because as vanessa approaches her, she steals the full extent of her gaze, locked in a silence that does not fall prey to another word.

no, there is only the air of soft breaths and the gentle tap of the woman's feet as she nears her, along with the hush of morgana's own breath as fingers carefully brush across her jaw, eyes fluttering briefly shut at the touch before they open once more to catch that exchanging look.

she had wondered if vanessa's lips would taste any different, if perhaps the heat of the night had conjured a much more mesmerizing taste that reality would actually allow. but all it takes is a moment of touch for memories of that heated mouth against her own to resurface, strong and slick with a dutiful tongue, that morgana knows it all comes natural from this woman rather than any exterior power.

there is no hesitation for response, leaning in with a tilt of her head to waste no time in empowering that kiss, her palms snagging quick at vanessa's hips to steer her in closer, almost possessively as she attempts to satiate that newfound hunger. ]

[ She knows now, beyond any doubt or second-guessing, that any outward influence this city sought to provide in order to manipulate them into intimacy could have only been responsible for so much — for there is none of that here, now, in the seclusion of the space that has been granted to her as a bittersweet consolation prize for the losses she has endured. The only force behind her directness, her initiation, is the desire that naturally exists within her for this woman, plain and untainted by external incentives.

Morgana's lips are soft against her own, yielding with almost no hesitancy, and yet they challenge as well, assertive in the hands that grasp at her waist to draw her in closer, firmly and unmistakably claiming. Her own fingers thread into the dark, wild strands of Morgana's hair to clutch deeper, and she breathes her need there, a soft exhale that betrays the depths of yearning that have existed within her since the last night they shared on a shifting sea.

Now, there is nothing beneath them but entirely solid ground, and she is helplessly, starkly aware of what little fabric exists to shield her from Morgana's gaze, her touch, her heat; she already longs to be bare and entwined, to feel the other woman's skin against her own, to hear the cries fingers and tongue are capable of driving from her throat.

She breaks away, but only for the purpose of letting her lips descend along the delicate arch of Morgana's jaw, inclining lower to lavish attention at her neck, soft pressing kisses that allow her to draw in the unique notes of the other woman's scent, and beneath it the power that naturally emanates from her but is discerned even more readily through direct skin contact. ]

[ this breathes addiction, a yearning that comes not from the need to satisfy a number as challenged by the city but by her own demand for desire. it is so very rare for her ache to revolve around a unique individual, caring little for the person whose hands would drift between her legs to touch her or the face she'll come to sit upon when seeking a tongue to fuck her; she knows all interactions inevitably lead to betrayal and building any kind of acquaintanceship has proven to be a waste in effort. and yet, here, she knows precisely whose lips she wants, whose curves she craves to touch once more. ]

Vanessa — [ she voices it with a smile as her head tips back to welcome the descent of a worshiping mouth, already feeling the heat where lips make contact with skin, each caress drawing on a memory in which they'd tangled in that old creaking bed, familiarizing themselves with those shared tastes.

though one hand drifts high to tangle in the back of that kept up hair, she maintains the grip of a hip, hard enough to urge a turning that nudges vanessa hard against a counter's edge. it is only then that her fingers loosen, though they choose to instead bunch the fabric of her lover's skirt high upon her hip, enough until she can sneak her hand beneath it, palm seeking a firm grip of a bare rear. ]

[ She should have known right from the very start that she would be powerless to resist this woman, that from the moment she felt compelled to drop to her knees and worship before the very altar that had demanded it of them it would be a reverence that would extend far beyond that night. And it has, although it has evolved into an intense yearning that she could have never anticipated, as though part of her is always craving the touch of these pale, slender fingers, longing for the soft press of this mouth against her own. It may be why she has acted somewhat heedlessly in pursuing more, choosing not to consider the possibility of betrayal between them when there are much more pressing considerations to dwell on — like whether or not they will make it up the stairs and into her bed. ]

My name has never sounded more perfect than it does on your lips, my lady. [ She murmurs it against Morgana's skin, the low cut of the other's bodice ensuring that her kisses can cover more skin — and she has intentions on dipping lower before she finds herself spun, maneuvered up against the edge of the foyer table hard enough to snatch a breath from her lungs.

She has been conscious of her bareness beneath this robe long before now, but no more does that awareness rear its head than in this moment, when Morgana parts the halves of it away from her front for that groping squeeze that prompts her to surge forward for another sealing of mouths, a kiss she feasts on, unable to stop coming back to those lips again and again as she thrusts her tongue past them for a deeper entanglement. ]

inbox for duplicity;

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