[D4 LN Once Upon a Troubadour, CLOSED]

[Marcus Kendall]

"No." he murmured, reassuring her. "No you shouldn't." The beast took a step back, still holding Chantelle against his chest. She was like a doll next to him, small and fragile where he was tall and sturdy. He eased his grip, letting her find her footing on the ground once more, moving to step behind her back even as he wrapped his claws around her belly. She could feel his lips on her neck, nuzzling and nibbling even as he embraced her, drinking from her passions.

Letting go, he grasped one of her hands, stepping back so that he stood before him, her hand in his. Smiling, the beast tilted his head to the side as if to ask 'what next'?

[Chantelle Rossette]

Now it was her turn to lead, she sang softly as she danced, giving the beast something to keep time to, something more focused than the backing music that filled the small Hollow. She asked little of him, simple steps as she danced with him, for him. Then the music changed again, a slow dance, romantic and sweeping, and she melted back into his arms, fluidly pressing her body up against his, conforming to his shape.

As she did, she reached behind her, her long, spidery fingers easily finding the hook-and-eye at the back of her dress. She unfastened it with a flick. To Marcus it perhaps appeared to be no more than a fleeting itch, but to Chantelle it was the opening of a door, an implicit acknowledgment of what she hoped was to come, the removal of a barrier should the beast seek to undress her.

[Marcus Kendall]

As she pressed herself closer, he reached to grasp to take a hold of her shoulders, running his claws down along her sides. This caused the straps of her dress to fall past her shoulders. The beast paid little heed to the flimsy garment as he held her close, hungrily kissing her neck. "Oh..." he half-gasped, half-growled. "Are you sure you want this?" Her passion hung in the air like a ripe plum and the beast drank deep of her emotions even as his claws clung to her dress, pulling it down and causing it to cascade on the floor.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Without the hook-and-eye to arrest such things, the delicate zip gave way and the light fabric fluttered down with a sound like feathers on the air. Beneath the sundress she wasn’t truly naked, no more than Marcus was in his fur, a coat of cream-white feathers clothing her.

She was nervous, that much was true, not so much as she’d been back when she was sixteen, but nervous all the same. “Weh, yes,” Chantelle answered, but a different thought occurred to her, sliding her arms around Marcus’ waist, “are you?”

[Marcus Kendall]

"Yeah." he gasped as she touched him, shivering ever so slightly under her touch. Marcus slid his arms upwards along her back, all the way to her shoulders as he embraced her, nuzzling against her long neck. "I want you.. a lot." the words we accentuated with nibbles, his teeth brushing against her feathers. "I hunger for you." With his hands around her, he slowly pushed her towards the bed.

[Chantelle Rossette]

She was aware of his hunger, it was on the air and in his voice, it was manifested in his body. “I wan’ you to,” she whispered, and her long fingers slid between their bodies. This time when she unfastened his shorts, she nudged them down, pushing them off his body to join her dress on the floor.

[Marcus Kendall]

His breeches undone, the beast's desire only grew. With a hungry grin on his lips, the beast half-dragged, half-carried the egret towards the bed, falling backwards so that she ended nestled against his chest.

/fade?

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle eagerly followed, knocking the stuffed toy out of the way and to the floor as they collapsed onto the bedding.


/fade

[Marcus Kendall]

/fade in!

Sometime later, the beauty and the beast lounged in the bed, the former resting in the arms of the latter. The air still stunk of sated desires, sweat and well, a damp dog. Marcus' ran his knuckles gently absentmindedly over the feathers covering Chantelle's arms. His breath was now deep, his chest heaving slowly. She could smell his fur and the lichen. She could sense a pang of happiness, bubbling like champagne. "Never thought that, someone could be like that..." he murmured, sounding drowsy.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Her head nestled on his large chest, the egret cuddled up against the beast, surrounded in a weary sort of contentment that came from such pleasant exertions. She didn’t sweat much, there weren’t any sweat glands under her feathers, leaving her scent relatively clean and still mysteriously floral. “Be li’ wha’?” she asked gently, she was very still, hand resting on his chest.