The world was whole when he was kissing her. No longer were they two separate entities, going about their own lives with individual hopes and dreams. They were one. They shared one heartbeat, one form. Their bodies fused together as they both searched for more of each other. What they could find, they would take, quivering at each other's touch as they sought to devour the individual to create the whole.
But like all good things, it could not last. Myrcella was the one to end it, her lips relinquishing their claim on his own as she pulled away. He followed her, though, his forehead pressed against hers, indigo eyes peering into her greys while a grin, wider than any before, spread across his face. He could still taste her upon him--a taste of sweat and desire that he lingered in as his tongue dragged across his lips.
"But you won't tell her, will you?" Maelor said, eyes alight with mischief. He leaned into the hand she placed about his neck, his own falling on his shoulder as his arm wrapped about her back to hold her close. "You know that to tell her is to lay this to rest."
In a motion fluid enough to make her question whether this man was the same one who had been floundering about the dance floor moments before, Maelor began walking, dropping an arm to rest about her waist. Their destination was clear; nearby sat a heavy wooden door. His eyes fluttered about the Hall, only to make sure that no one was watching them, before returning to the door. Easing it open, he revealed a long room that was used for storage, a lonely pair of candles providing all of the lighting the room offered, and even they were running low. No doubt this was where all of the tables and benches would go, once the festivities were over, but for now, they had the room to themselves. His foot hooked around the wooden frame and closed it behind them.
"Besides," he hummed, mirroring her own sentence. He guided her backwards until cold stone pressed against her flesh, holding his distance from her with a palm placed flat against the stones. "Is that what you really want? Escape?" He drew closer, until his head rested against hers once more.
"Because the door's right there... but I thought a Lioness bolder than that. I thought she might just want to see where another hour takes us." The faint lighting cast soft shadows on his face, a teasing smile resting on his face while his eyes fluttered shut. For once, it was him teasing her. Egging her on. Trying to bring more out of her.
Jaehaera was immobile as those searing lips of hers paced along her flesh. Wherever they fell, skin seared, the touch that graced them as hot as the Seven Flames of Valyria. She wanted nothing more than to melt into them. In her touch, she thought she might be able to forget the threat of Aegor, or the responsibilities she bore. It was a magical thing. Safety was something she had not felt in a long time, and was an odd thing, to come from a woman.
Green eyes sought approval, but they would not find it, as violets were shut. Every touch sent shivers down Jaehaera's spine, but saw a movement in kind. Newly-liberated hands ghosted over the thigh of the Lioness. Fingers trailed their interior as they moved up, up, until they stopped on the hard bone of her ribs, the tight fabric leaving them readily accessible. Still, they did not stop there, flitting higher until they came to rest on the swell of her bosom.
"Don't we all?" She was hot against Ellyn's lips, brushing against them in a way that spoke of things to come, but she would not offer release yet. Instead, Jaehaera's nails raked against the back of her skull, down until they found the nape of her neck, where they favored hair instead. Those curls she had admitted she loved not an hour before found themselves wrapped around her hand, tugging tighter and tighter until they drew Ellyn's head backwards. Though the arch of the Lannister's neck drew her lips away, Jaehaera didn't let that split them apart. She followed, hot on her heels, her mouth always just brushing against her partner's, but dancing away whenever Ellyn tried to claim them for her own.
Only when soft whimpers--a mixture of pain and of wanton desire--slipped from Ellyn's lips did Jaehaera surge forward. She was not timid, as Ellyn had been. Discussion of her own helplessness in the face of what was to come left her yearning for some semblance of control and certainty. Her tongue did not meander about against her lips, but rather slipped in until it was wrapped around Ellyn's own. Jaehaera tasted of the Dornish red she had been drinking, and that taste explored every inch of Ellyn's mouth, swirling and claiming.
"Is this what you wanted?" Jaehaera asked, pulling harder on her mane of hair to coax her head back yet again. Hot kisses, lips, tongue, and teeth in equal measure, assailed the soft flesh of her throat, fingers unrelenting as one set pressed into flesh and the other into hair. She was searching for moans and whimpers and the mewling of a cub, and she would find them.
"Because I've wanted this since I saw you tonight. Gods, every bit of me screamed for you."