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assorted tomfuckery. mostly just a place to keep lists and things.

Jan. 19th, 2012

inglouriously: (Melanie nip slip~)
It starts off innocently enough. They're having a companionable tea together, enjoying each others' presence over hot tea and fresh toast. Shoshanna reaches for the jar of raspberry jam the servants included on the tea tray, intending to spread it over her already buttered toast, dipping the butter knife in and pulling it back out covered in a gob of deep red preserves.

It's when the knife is on its way to the toast when it happens: a gob of jam slides off and lands on the side of her hand, in the expanse of skin between her thumb and forefinger. Scoffing, annoyed, Shoshanna wipes some of it away onto the bread, but there's still a stark red smear against her skin.

And before she can do anything about it, Kurama's reached out and snatched her wrist, bringing her hand to his mouth and cleaning away the jam with one quick swipe of his tongue. She stares at him, unable to stop the parting of her lips or the quick, quiet exhale of breath. And for a long moment they remain that way, looking at each other. Really, it's more that they're sizing each other up, like they're going to have a fight, but they both know better than that.

"I see."


Kurama nods. And tugs on her wrist, pulling her until she comes around to his side of the little table, perches in his lap. She's in a dress reminiscent of her own time, low, square-cut neckline with pearl buttons all down the front. It's the work of a few seconds for his long fingers to undo the top four buttons, opening her dress to expose the steady rise and fall of her chest. He falls upon her, lips hungry against her shoulder, clavicle, between her breasts. Gasping, she's gasping for air, and it's mostly because this is so unexpected. They were just having tea, and now he's swiping a thumb below the lace of her bra, inciting shivers all down her spine.

What's really unexpected, though, is that he reaches out, dips his index finger into the jam jar, and then smears it across her collarbone. The cold is a shock, but it's nothing to the warm tongue licking it away with utmost care. Shoshanna's chin tilts upward, allowing herself to relax into the sensation.

He kisses down her chest, pulling the flimsy lace of her bra completely down and away from her breast, doing such delicious things to it that she thinks she might forget how to breathe. This time she's ready for it, the long finger smearing sticky sweet jam across the stiff nipple and goosefleshed skin. She whimpers when he wraps his lips around it, suckling away every last bit; her fingers have long since wound into strands of red hair, and they don't loosen until he surfaces, giving her a wolfish grin that leaves her squirming in his lap.

"Your tea is getting cold."

"Yes, of-of course."