Sympathy for the Devil

[Hazel Scheler]

If ever the was a woman that appreciated that particular smell it would be this one. Reminded her of quieter nights spent on her ship, surrounded by her crew and Proten brothers and sisters. Whiling away the hours of hyperspace by telling stories while tending to their weapons. She wasn't given long to wallow in nostalgia - their lips were locked and her back hit the wall with a resounding crack.

Hazel's own hands helped him strip the layers of piece metal while internally her OCD of placing the pieces at the very least together, or in some kind of pile, screamed at her. She bit his lip for good measure and felt him retaliate with indulgent vigor. A muffled noise of aggravation sounded. A hand - at this point she wasn't exactly sure whose - unzipped the top half of the body suit. It was most definitely his that pulled it away. A minimal bra liner separated the man from bare skin because Hazel didn't do chaffed.

Hands pinned for the time being, the Merc made use of her natural leg - the left one - and hiked it up between his own. It looped back and around his right, her thigh and hip rolling slowly upwards. A grunt and squirm resulted from overzealous chawing at her flesh. That was going to leave a mark.

[member="Dak Canton"]

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Tongue tasted the salt of sweat slick skin as his mouth tracked across her collarbone. He felt her knee rub up between his legs and shuddered slightly. Fingers curled harder around her wrists and he pressed up against her, kissing along the bare shoulder until lips felt the chill metallic touch of - wait hang on a second.

Dak pulled back, and examined her arm. The whole damn thing was cybernetic.

"You kriffing cheater."

Somehow that didn't seem as important anymore.

He dropped his grasp on her wrists, rough hands running firmly down the side of her body. He pulled her knee away, then found her hips and picked her up with a grunt like he was baling hay. His lips meet her neck again, just beneath the ear, the afternoon shadow of his jaw burning across her cheek. Not soft. Not sweet. Scratching, the way his nails trailed against the small of her uncovered back.

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Head lolled back against the wall, Hazel felt a grin growing on her lips - broader as his own traveled across her skin and towards her shoulder. Ever since their match aboard his ship she'd mentally prepared for the moment he learned of her ... enhancements. As soon as he broke away and the words hit his teeth she was cackling.

Laughing. Something she hadn't done in quite some time. Sputtering slightly as he hoisted her off the ground, the sound grew hoarse as his face pressed against her neck, and then drew into a groan as nails dug into the flesh of her back.

Hnnnnnnngh.

Spine arching away, Hazel's hands surged upwards into his hair to claw forcefully at his scalp. Dark blond hair filled the grip of her right hand, fingers tightly closing around the short length to pull and pry the man from her neck. A moment later and his lips were seized by her own again. The Merc coiled her cybernetic arm back and planted her palm against the wall, verily shoving them both away from it, likely to collide with the desk ... or wherever Dak's feet managed to take them. Her hand in his hair did not relent its grip.

 

[Marcus Tritum]

She arched into him, bare and warm and firm. Fingers of one hand traced along that curving spine, then she pushed off the wall with inhuman strength and sent both of them to the ground. Shoulder blades smacked into the carpet hard enough to bruise.

Dak grunted into her mouth. Hands ran up her thighs as she straddled him. An ache rose inside Dak, a basic instinct that burned him up, like a firebrand put to the blood, searing to a hot boil 'til he ran a fever of lust. Kisses grew more insistent, forceful, as if the taste of her lips weren't enough and he needed more.

Leaning up, he broke the kiss, mouth trailing along her chin, down her neck and the valley of her sternum - ripping off anything in the way - 'til urgent lips found what they sought. Doin' all sorts of things that would break little minds, until they made her gasp and moan. The sound of pure and simple desire, a frenzied satisfaction of primitive needs.

Fingers found the hem of her body glove's leggings and began to husk 'em away.

@Iv Lasranae

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Hazel tasted blood in her mouth and she wasn't certain who it belonged to. The raw, furious kissing had left her lips stinging in a manner reminiscent of Darkside Lightning straight to the face. Only he wouldn't be leaving behind glowing red scars, though she felt her lips might be redder for his effort. Certainly her front would be if he continued with as much fervor...

The urgency in which his hands pulled at her back, tearing at the liner and casting it aside like a beast might slough the hide off a kill was both envigorating and infuriating at the same time. The Merc bit back a growl, knowing the consequences she would face later. Chaffing. The bane of a woman's existence who lived in a body suit hampered down by armor. She might've cursed at him-

-no, she did curse at him, but for entirely different reasons.

"Feth-" she felt teeth at... well, an area of particular sensitivity, the continued vigor of his attention drawing out a sharp groan. Hazel buried her face into his hair, pressing her own lips and teeth into his scalp to spill hot breath over muffled noises. Hand of metal held her braced over the man while that of flesh traveled down to yank at his shirt. The sounds elicited whining from the beast closed behind the door, it began to growl and paw.

Hazel reached for a nearby piece of her armor, tossing it at the door with a loud THUNK, "Shut up Jet!"

[member="Dak Canton"]

 

[Marcus Tritum]

Soon any remaining shred of clothing lay discarded somewhere on the floor, or desk, or ceiling fan. Bodies writhed and shuddered. Toes curled. Fingers clenched and scratched all in a fit of ecstasy.

A few rug burns later and it was all over.

Dak stood, not one for cuddling, and began belting on his pants.

"I guess we should, uh-"

The door slid open, revealing the face of the Gran desk jockey. It gaped at them for a moment, shook itself, then blurted, "Perimeter alerts went off, please investigate. Nothing lives out there except," all three eyes widened, "the droids."

[member="Ivy Lasranae"]