[he props his head up on his arm, very relaxed and deliciously warm beneath the covers with her, despite the cold winter air. lying here with her makes him even more eager to have a proper bed - something with a little more give than several layers of blankets on wood.]
Where are your people?
[her broader clan, perhaps, but also her friends or family, if that's how she prefers to answer. loved ones and the ones she chooses to keep within reach, for whatever reason she has.]
[She tugs a little bit of his hair and starts to braid it, idly.]
My people.
[She smiles a little at that.]
There are seventeen Khan in New York, and twenty-three in London. Four hundred kinfolk, give or take, in the Mid-Atlantic. Jai Ayer is the asshole who controls Boston - he's taking care of my cousin Maia, under the assumption she'll marry him one day, but I don't think that's going to happen.
There are another six or seven hundred kinfolk in London, who mostly report to me, although when I'm not around they take their issues to my aunt Priya.
[She takes a deep breath.]
My mother lives in Los Angeles with my stepfather, and my little sister lives in Miami with her boyfriend. My grandmother is still in York.
Keeping it all together means having to give up the notion of stability. If I give up London to one of the other Khan or to the London Simba pride, then I can't go back. If I give up New York, Ayer will come and make life difficult for my kinfolk.
[She puts one arm over his waist, done with his hair. She just knows she wants to keep touching him.]
It's easier to travel, where I'm from. I can get to London from New York in seven hours, if I need to.
[when she tells him about her world, it's like her voice echoes faintly with the sheer size of it behind her, so much wider and yet infinitely more accessible than the one he'd recognize. it makes him wonder if he would even last in her world; even the tigers are playing games of politics. he's never been able to get the hang of it. negotiations were always jack's time to shine, and the longer they lasted, the brighter he did.
vane's certainly noticing similarities, between the two people that really matter to him in this place.
in any case. he knows quite well what a monumental task it is to bring leaders under one tent, whether literally or figuratively. it took the spanish gold - and vane's astronomically unlikely role as conciliator between flint and jack - to manage it on nassau. in the modern world, he can scarcely imagine the complications, and doesn't particularly want to, either.]
I envy you having the world at your fingertips. But not your responsibilities.
You would like some of them. Killing asura. Demons, is the best translation. Corruptions. Destroying vampires.
[But largely, she thinks he wouldnāt like it. She might call him lion but he would be a Rokea through and through, except heās far too attractive. Disdainful of humans and even of shifters and their politics, keeping to the oceans, destroying anyone who comes too close.
But she doesnāt want to think of him that way. As long as heās not a shifter she can keep him.]
I donāt even like some of my responsibilities.
[She says this next part because theyāre here, in bed (or something like it) together, because sheās easy with pleasure.]
If you were with me, we could take Boston. I would let you give me children. Weād have the fiercest cubs.
[hunting demons sounds fucking cool as hell. the vampires thing, less so, mostly because his limited experience with vampires here in duplicity has been largely inoffensive, so he's got no particular inclination to destroy them. maybe her world is different. demons, though, that goes without saying.
it's the mention of children that makes him quiet. like most pirates who came to the account young, he saw plenty of elders retire inland, take wives, father children. it was almost expected at a certain point, once a man had either stockpiled enough riches to satisfy himself or had simply grown tired of the smell of blood and gunpowder. vane himself could scarcely conceptualize such a thing - until he fell in love with eleanor, and thought for the first time that there might very well be reasons to build something that couldn't be taken by the sea.
that had been an ugly mistake and a hard-learned lesson, the half-formed aspiration killed in its cradle. but it doesn't really matter, here, with daphne conjuring up visions of a nonexistent future. she's talking about things that never could happen, even if he changed his mind.]
I don't know shit about children. [once again, his fingers curl loosely into her hair.] But I imagine you're right, either way.
[She seems unbothered by that fact. It's her duty to have children; she still lives in the kind of world where there is a village to raise a child. Being a shifter means a community that will congregate, make sure that anyone who is part of the family will be well-cared for. But that also doesn't matter, because here, she can't have children, and because she can't take him with her.
What he doesn't know: she's never thought of someone to be a father for a child of hers before. Not really, not since Asher. But she tries to not think very hard about him, in any case.]
[well. it's only fair, isn't it, that she should ask. but vane finds that it doesn't seem to matter to him much. it was so long ago, so far removed from where he ended up. and it's not like she has any of the context that would make admitting such a thing so fucking embarrassing.
still, it takes him a moment or two of silence to answer.]
Thought I did, once. It didn't last.
[he rolls onto his back a little, folding his arm beneath his head, but he keeps the other one tucked around her.]
[No one has said the name "Eleanor Guthrie" in Daphne's presence, so she truly is well removed from the context. She tucks herself in a little closer, and takes a breath.]
Maybe it would have.
[She puts one hand over his chest. A family: she tries to not go any further than that. She doesn't have baby fever and she doesn't really want it, but she thinks that if she spends too much time building that fantasy with Charles Vane, it'll end up breaking her.
So.
Something else. Anything else.]
Can I trade this shirt in for a different one?
[He doesn't have many clothes, she knows it, but she is going to keep one of his shirts close because, well.
[that makes him grin, tucking his head to nuzzle her hair.]
Absolutely.
[hell, he could trade her a shirt every time the scent of him starts to fade. he's already started carving out a niche for himself here, and over time it can only grow; the wardrobe will expand with it. she can have as many of them as she wants.]
But it'll cost you a pair of panties.
[duplicity took the last pair when he disappeared. can you fuckin believe that?]
[Her smile starts slowly, and then she crinkles her nose a little.]
Yes, okay.
[She levers herself up to give him a kiss on the mouth, and looks even more pleased now. She sits up and wrestles her - well, his - shirt off, and nuzzles in closer.]
You know, for a confession that this place forced on me, this turned out pretty well.
[She considers his face, and then moves to straddle him.]
Lay back.
[Why not treat him like a king? Why not give him what he deserves, when she can? He has a nice view of her tits from up there, and she leans down to kiss him, first, cupping his face in her hands.
She kisses him again, and then starts working her way down the length of his body, biting a little as she goes, sharp but not enough to draw blood. In the meantime she reaches between them and cups his cock in her hand, touching him lightly enough that she knows it's probably a bit maddening.]
Tell me how pretty I am.
[She's got that smile on her face, that one that suggests she wants some pure base flattery.
And she gets one nipple between her teeth, toying with it with her tongue like she would tease a woman between her legs.]
he answers that kiss with a low growl of desire, running his hands up her stomach to play with her breasts as soon as they're offered to him. she's moving out of his touch too fast for his liking, but it's fine, because she's headed in a very agreeable direction, and the hands that were molding her breasts are now in her hair instead, and he likes that almost as much.]
Beautiful.
[it's barely in response to her demand; had to be said because it's true. then her teeth catches his nipple and he arches his back with a hiss of pleasure, flexing his fingers in her hair.]
If I had you waiting for me, I wouldn't think of anything else.
[She runs her tongue over his nipple, and kisses down his ribs; she finds a scar that's particularly interesting and presses her mouth to it, and keeps working her way down.]
Keep talking.
[She likes the sound of his voice, especially when he gets aroused, especially when he so clearly wants her. She keeps kissing down his abs, enjoying that flutter of muscle, all the way to the juncture of his leg.
She works his cock with her hand, her tongue flat against the head for a second.]
Tastes like me.
[She says it so he remembers where it was, just a few minutes ago, before she takes him in her mouth, her head gripping the base of his dick, her hand just moving just a touch, just enough to make him crazy.]
[now how the fuck is he supposed to tell her how hot she is when he can barely form a coherent sentence? his fingers tighten again, tugging sharply for a second before he gets himself under control.
it's not until he props himself up on one elbow and gets a proper view of her mouth sliding down over his cock that he really manages to focus.]
I'd let them say you bewitched me. You work magic with your fucking mouth.
[She eases off his cock for a moment, but only for long enough to tease him with a smile, the tip of her tongue against one of her sharp, sharp teeth, and then she licks a long stripe up the length of him, specifically as a show, giving him the chance to watch her mouth for a moment. She's having a good time, watching him; she's having a good time hearing the things she does to him. Daphne isn't a selfish lover, exactly - no good domme can be - but she has to wonder if it counts, when hearing him talk to her in that deep, gravely voice, makes her just as excited as anything else.
She moves and does it again, another long stripe, and then a third before she wraps her lips around the head of his cock and focuses all her attention - and her tongue - on the sensitive little spot right under the head.
[augh, fuck - as fucking hot as it was to see that, it also makes him buckle, flattening out beneath her once again with a deep groan of pleasure. he's going to be thinking about that little hint of fang for a long time, but right now he can't think about anything except the tip of her fucking tongue doing that.]
Yeah. [it sounds like it's been dragged out of him.] Like that.
[by all means, she should take him for everything he's worth. she's earned it.]
[He sounds like the entire world is right there at his mercy, and he can't think about anything except getting his dick sucked.
Glorious. Beautiful.
She rolls her tongue a little against the head of his cock and practically giggles; compared to her other blowjobs, this one is neat as a pin, a precise strike to make him insane. Her hands go to his thighs, and she presses her fingers into them, and then starts to swallow him as much as she can without shifting her throat, which, as it turns out, is more than a little.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Where are your people?
[her broader clan, perhaps, but also her friends or family, if that's how she prefers to answer. loved ones and the ones she chooses to keep within reach, for whatever reason she has.]
no subject
My people.
[She smiles a little at that.]
There are seventeen Khan in New York, and twenty-three in London. Four hundred kinfolk, give or take, in the Mid-Atlantic. Jai Ayer is the asshole who controls Boston - he's taking care of my cousin Maia, under the assumption she'll marry him one day, but I don't think that's going to happen.
There are another six or seven hundred kinfolk in London, who mostly report to me, although when I'm not around they take their issues to my aunt Priya.
[She takes a deep breath.]
My mother lives in Los Angeles with my stepfather, and my little sister lives in Miami with her boyfriend. My grandmother is still in York.
Keeping it all together means having to give up the notion of stability. If I give up London to one of the other Khan or to the London Simba pride, then I can't go back. If I give up New York, Ayer will come and make life difficult for my kinfolk.
[She puts one arm over his waist, done with his hair. She just knows she wants to keep touching him.]
It's easier to travel, where I'm from. I can get to London from New York in seven hours, if I need to.
no subject
vane's certainly noticing similarities, between the two people that really matter to him in this place.
in any case. he knows quite well what a monumental task it is to bring leaders under one tent, whether literally or figuratively. it took the spanish gold - and vane's astronomically unlikely role as conciliator between flint and jack - to manage it on nassau. in the modern world, he can scarcely imagine the complications, and doesn't particularly want to, either.]
I envy you having the world at your fingertips. But not your responsibilities.
no subject
[But largely, she thinks he wouldnāt like it. She might call him lion but he would be a Rokea through and through, except heās far too attractive. Disdainful of humans and even of shifters and their politics, keeping to the oceans, destroying anyone who comes too close.
But she doesnāt want to think of him that way. As long as heās not a shifter she can keep him.]
I donāt even like some of my responsibilities.
[She says this next part because theyāre here, in bed (or something like it) together, because sheās easy with pleasure.]
If you were with me, we could take Boston. I would let you give me children. Weād have the fiercest cubs.
no subject
it's the mention of children that makes him quiet. like most pirates who came to the account young, he saw plenty of elders retire inland, take wives, father children. it was almost expected at a certain point, once a man had either stockpiled enough riches to satisfy himself or had simply grown tired of the smell of blood and gunpowder. vane himself could scarcely conceptualize such a thing - until he fell in love with eleanor, and thought for the first time that there might very well be reasons to build something that couldn't be taken by the sea.
that had been an ugly mistake and a hard-learned lesson, the half-formed aspiration killed in its cradle. but it doesn't really matter, here, with daphne conjuring up visions of a nonexistent future. she's talking about things that never could happen, even if he changed his mind.]
I don't know shit about children. [once again, his fingers curl loosely into her hair.] But I imagine you're right, either way.
no subject
[She seems unbothered by that fact. It's her duty to have children; she still lives in the kind of world where there is a village to raise a child. Being a shifter means a community that will congregate, make sure that anyone who is part of the family will be well-cared for. But that also doesn't matter, because here, she can't have children, and because she can't take him with her.
What he doesn't know: she's never thought of someone to be a father for a child of hers before. Not really, not since Asher. But she tries to not think very hard about him, in any case.]
I suspect I'm not very domestic.
[She looks up at him, then.]
Did you ever want a family?
no subject
still, it takes him a moment or two of silence to answer.]
Thought I did, once. It didn't last.
[he rolls onto his back a little, folding his arm beneath his head, but he keeps the other one tucked around her.]
If it had been you, maybe it would have.
no subject
Maybe it would have.
[She puts one hand over his chest. A family: she tries to not go any further than that. She doesn't have baby fever and she doesn't really want it, but she thinks that if she spends too much time building that fantasy with Charles Vane, it'll end up breaking her.
So.
Something else. Anything else.]
Can I trade this shirt in for a different one?
[He doesn't have many clothes, she knows it, but she is going to keep one of his shirts close because, well.
She likes them.]
no subject
Absolutely.
[hell, he could trade her a shirt every time the scent of him starts to fade. he's already started carving out a niche for himself here, and over time it can only grow; the wardrobe will expand with it. she can have as many of them as she wants.]
But it'll cost you a pair of panties.
[duplicity took the last pair when he disappeared. can you fuckin believe that?]
no subject
Yes, okay.
[She levers herself up to give him a kiss on the mouth, and looks even more pleased now. She sits up and wrestles her - well, his - shirt off, and nuzzles in closer.]
You know, for a confession that this place forced on me, this turned out pretty well.
no subject
No way in hell is this city gonna fuck with you at my expense, tigress.
no subject
Now you're just softening me up for a blowjob.
no subject
I wasn't. But if you're offering....
no subject
Lay back.
[Why not treat him like a king? Why not give him what he deserves, when she can? He has a nice view of her tits from up there, and she leans down to kiss him, first, cupping his face in her hands.
She kisses him again, and then starts working her way down the length of his body, biting a little as she goes, sharp but not enough to draw blood. In the meantime she reaches between them and cups his cock in her hand, touching him lightly enough that she knows it's probably a bit maddening.]
Tell me how pretty I am.
[She's got that smile on her face, that one that suggests she wants some pure base flattery.
And she gets one nipple between her teeth, toying with it with her tongue like she would tease a woman between her legs.]
no subject
he answers that kiss with a low growl of desire, running his hands up her stomach to play with her breasts as soon as they're offered to him. she's moving out of his touch too fast for his liking, but it's fine, because she's headed in a very agreeable direction, and the hands that were molding her breasts are now in her hair instead, and he likes that almost as much.]
Beautiful.
[it's barely in response to her demand; had to be said because it's true. then her teeth catches his nipple and he arches his back with a hiss of pleasure, flexing his fingers in her hair.]
If I had you waiting for me, I wouldn't think of anything else.
no subject
Keep talking.
[She likes the sound of his voice, especially when he gets aroused, especially when he so clearly wants her. She keeps kissing down his abs, enjoying that flutter of muscle, all the way to the juncture of his leg.
She works his cock with her hand, her tongue flat against the head for a second.]
Tastes like me.
[She says it so he remembers where it was, just a few minutes ago, before she takes him in her mouth, her head gripping the base of his dick, her hand just moving just a touch, just enough to make him crazy.]
no subject
[now how the fuck is he supposed to tell her how hot she is when he can barely form a coherent sentence? his fingers tighten again, tugging sharply for a second before he gets himself under control.
it's not until he props himself up on one elbow and gets a proper view of her mouth sliding down over his cock that he really manages to focus.]
I'd let them say you bewitched me. You work magic with your fucking mouth.
no subject
She moves and does it again, another long stripe, and then a third before she wraps her lips around the head of his cock and focuses all her attention - and her tongue - on the sensitive little spot right under the head.
Mercy is for the weak, Charles.]
no subject
Yeah. [it sounds like it's been dragged out of him.] Like that.
[by all means, she should take him for everything he's worth. she's earned it.]
no subject
Glorious. Beautiful.
She rolls her tongue a little against the head of his cock and practically giggles; compared to her other blowjobs, this one is neat as a pin, a precise strike to make him insane. Her hands go to his thighs, and she presses her fingers into them, and then starts to swallow him as much as she can without shifting her throat, which, as it turns out, is more than a little.]