deathsmajesty | (Reply)

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She slipped down to her knees, and guided his free hand into her hair. Then, as he raised his mug to his lips for another long, slow swallow of his coffee, Liliana leaned forward for a long, slow swallow of her own, a greedy noise leaving her throat before it was filled by something else.

Most people would laugh at the idea of Liliana Vess being a patient woman and for damn good reason. But those people had never seen her in her workroom, or her greenhouse in Glen Elendra, or even as a young girl reading through secret books in her family's library, painstakingly teaching herself necromancy. When Liliana was invested, she transcended mere patience and went straight to thorough. And, oh, was she invested now. She teased, she lingered, she went exquisitely slow, through when his breathing turned harsh and his grip in her hair tightened, all the way until his patience finally waned--

It was not the chair or the floor or the railing; 'and' was the correct conjunction there, and by the time Ignis (fully dressed and combed and tidied once more) brought Liliana (languid, unclothed, and mussed) breakfast, there was no question of whether or not either of them were ravenous enough to appreciate it properly.

But even if he'd been inclined to assume that her early rising had simply been to seduce him in the sunrise (especially since the next part of Birthday Mischief^TM had fortuitously arrived whilst they were otherwise occupied), it became quite clear that she was Up To Something, when, instead of going back to take a post-breakfast siesta, she swanned out of their bedroom fully dressed and pressed a heavy wicker basket into his hands.

"Come along, my darling," she declared, voice pure sunshine. "We certainly don't want the day getting away from us and it's nearly eleven now."