“It might help if you stopped trying.”
“And when I do you die?”
“Have you forgotten I can take care of myself? I don’t think you can have this both ways.”
Tag Archives: v: arthurian summer
”Please,” she breathes. Her hands tremble slightly. “Don’t stop,” her voice shakes as well, breathless, “only tell me what you’re doing … “
“And I did. You keep trying to protect me. Mordred.”
“And I can see it works well.”
“It might help if you stopped trying.”
She bites her lip, nodding, and strokes a slow finger along his collarbone. “Don’t stop.”
Summer takes a slow breath, feeling her breasts rise against his chest. “Percival.” His hands trace over her skin, and the fine hairs rise behind it, and she shudders. An ache rises up through her, and she reaches up and cups his face, kissing him slow and deep and filling it with all her new passion.
”Why do you call me that?” she laughed, pulling at her laces. She looked up, and caught her breath, fingers stilling for a moment. Then she pulled harder, shrugging her shoulders out of her bodice as fast as she could, stripping the lace out with hasty fingers before dragging her chemise over her head.
Summer tries to stop the faint whimper that escapes her throat, too late, when he moves his hands to her rear and back. Fingertips dig into his arms, and she forces herself to loosen her grip — not of fear for bruising him, but simply to shift her grip to something else. One hand tangles in the laces of his shirt, pulling at them.
He exhales sharply upon hearing Summer. He takes one hand from her bum to help her with the laces before tentatively pushing up the hem of her shirt. “Is this okay?”
She bites her lip, nodding, and strokes a slow finger along his collarbone. “Don’t stop.”
Summer tangled herself around Percival with a hum of deep contentment. “You sure you want to sleep now, Peredur?” she purred, kissing at his throat.
”I like that idea,” she murmured. “But no socks. Take the socks off first.” Summer cuddled into Percival’s body, kissing him back. One hand ran up under his shirt.
Name: Summer Rainault
Age: 20 (camelot)
Do you like to cuddle?: yes, please
Can we make-out?: I guess so
A night in or dinner out?: a night in
Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: strawberries
What makes you a good Valentine?: I think you love me; I’m cuddly and sweet, I’m not hard to please.
Would you cook for me?: Yes
Would you let me cook for you?: I guess so————-
“Are you saying I can’t cook?”
“I’m saying I have no idea of your cooking skills. When would you have time to learn?”
“It is not the same at all.” She took the socks and tapped him on the head with them. “And what is the point of snuggling with you if I can’t use you to warm my poor toes?”
“My lady, I must conclude that your socks are too tight. Scoot over.” Percival stood up off the floor and sat down on the bed. “Oh, I’m sure you could think of a few.” He leaned into her, tackling her into the bed. “I’m sleepy, Ice-Toes.” He burrowed them both into the covers, tucking the blanket snugly around Summer’s feet before kissing her nose. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
Summer tangled herself around Percival with a hum of deep contentment. “You sure you want to sleep now, Peredur?” she purred, kissing at his throat.
“What, that I would come back?”
“Something like that, but I did tell you to leave, though.”
“And I did. You keep trying to protect me. Mordred.”