Inbox // IC Communication

[goethbeforethefall]

This is the Inbox/IC Communication post for caldera

OOC Contact Permissions Application

Visuals Caldera Vhenan

Solas The Dread Wolf Fen'Harel

code

This is the In-Character Inbox for Solas.
Please reply below, and he will respond in due time.

Comments

[goethbeforethefall]

"Ten years you endured," Solas reminds her; she does this often, belittling her own strength, and courage, as if adhering to reasonable limitations had ever once been her mein, "It is no mystery if you grow impatient, now. As I once told you that I longed to experience what it was to be dominated by you..."

No, his heart was strong, and now that it is safe to do so, Solas revels in it.

"...I can say now with confidence, it is as fascinating an experience as I might have predicted. You grow more skilled with every repetition, and the effect is... breathtaking."

[arlathvhen]

"It's different." She replies, lips pulling into what threatens to be a pout. "That is to say, it'd be different if we were friends. Though I'd still want to kiss you, I think." She cups his face, a smirk on her face as she examines it closely. "You are very kissable, I fear. I'm not sure I'd have the wherewithal to resist." She hadn't, after all, when Solas and her were in that dream together. Throwing caution to the wind and grabbing for him, the surprise on his face...

No more surprise now, of course. She's made her opinions quite soundly known. And when he mentions how breathtaking her skill is, she can't help but look quite pleased with herself.

"I could say the same of you. To hold dominion over the Dread Wolf... or to give myself to him entirely..." That smirk only strengthens as she slips a hand under his shirt. "Either way is thrilling. Though I will say, for as much as I will complain about the book, it did give me an idea or two..."

[goethbeforethefall]

"Shall I take you then, my heart?" He challenges, reaching at last to satisfy himself, hands easy on the fullness of her rump and leaning allow her own raving hands more freedom, "Shall I set a wolf's fangs at your throat and wring pleasure from you until you are weeping for mercy?"

It was an enticing thought; Beleth was so controlled, so full of prepossession and care. To see her incoherent, blind with pleasure and exhaustion, utterly spent, unable to do more than weakly protest... only to bend and pull yet more from her weary flesh. Yes, that was a thought, indeed.

"Or perhaps you will yet tame the Dread Wolf, and hold him to heel: all the hounds of Ferelden, put to shame."

[arlathvhen]

His hands and his words work in concert, a dual attack that leaves Beleth's ear tips red, both imagination and heart racing. Solas has always been good with his words, poetical when the mood strikes him, and tantalizing with other moods. Tempting and teasing.

But she has her own weapons.

"I want both. I want it all." She tells him, lips moving to his ear as her fingers toy idly with the band of his pants. "I want you, in every way that two people can be together. We have all the time in the world, my love, and I want to spend no small amount of it trying everything that is there to be tried." It's easy, in this position, to move her arms around to his back, nails gently gliding over the skin there, not quite enough to be called scratching, as she presses herself up against him.

"More than anything else in Thedas or Caldera, I want you."