Grounder | Azgeda
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Post by Abra on Nov 17, 2018 18:12:18 GMT
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Oct 26, 2021 17:41:24 GMT
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Post by Baron Tseng on Nov 18, 2018 3:38:48 GMT
Baron wasn't sure how long they had been arguing for, but it was enough to both make their points . . . and then some. Baron's argument that seducing people for work was not the same thing as being in the company of women during events. But it was the manner in which the pictures showed that was Abra's argument back. Though Baron did not raise his voice, it was clear that tensions were high. Perhaps it was the stress of what their jobs entailed. Perhaps it was the fact that it wasn't exactly made easy for them to be out and about together. Whatever the contributing factors were . . . they were most certainly having an argument about it. And truth be told, Baron hated to argue. Yet the rising heat of the moment was not going to be soon extinguished.
After stating his adamant words of how it was not the same thing, he turned his back to Abra in frustration, her own words firing at him as Baron's hand ran down his face in utter frustration. They were getting no where. They were going no where. And Baron needed to find a way to just stop this conversation. He needed a way to bring it to an end, however natural or abrupt. It seemed the latter was more likely. Tuning out her words, and fairly certain she was in mid sentence, Baron hastily turned, marched over to her, and pressed his lips against her own. His hands held her upper arms before going to either side of her cheeks. The fervent kiss held an intensity to it, the frustration and heat of their argument seeping into the embrace as Baron coaxed her mouth open with his own. Breathing heavily through the kiss as if heaving with all the fire that sparked from their conversation and finally . . . he found a way to release it all.
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Grounder | Azgeda
I am Iron. And I forge myself.
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Tag me @abra
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Post by Abra on Nov 18, 2018 4:26:05 GMT
So gather ye demons, it seems it's your day I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves This moment had been months in the making. The argument was a conflation of emotions, of having watched the other flirt their way to success, of pure green-eyed jealousy. There had been another magazine article, which had spurred her to seducing a man in order to kill him, something Baron had never approved of. And that had led to this fight. Abra was infuriated that he kept calm, didn't raise his voice at all, and just reiterated his point again and again; his point being that what he did was not the same thing as what she did.
Abra argued that it might not have been the same thing, but was just as bad. But they were both stubborn and unwilling to relent. When he turned away it only angered her more. Abra was in the middle of threatening the life of the woman he'd been photographed with, as well as threatening to find another person to seduce, when he had turned and come toward her. She squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up in defiance as she glared at him. She was not so easily intimidate and did not retreat from his towering form, but what he did next took her by surprise.
His mouth was on hers in the next instant, hot, heavy, dominant. The kiss was not gentle at all, was filled with frustration and anger but invoked an all together different emotion. Her palms hit his chest hard, shoving him away so she could glare at him, her stare confused and angry. A moment of silence passed, and then she was on him, her hands grabbing his shirt and pulling him down so her mouth could find his. There was nothing gentle about the way she returned his kiss; it was rough, aggressive, a release of built up tensions, but it was electrifying. It didn't diminish her anger but she couldn't stop the moan that the kiss invoked.
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Post by Baron Tseng on Nov 18, 2018 19:09:14 GMT
Baron was not entirely certain how Abra was going to react. The nature of their kiss was different than any other before. Born of pent up frustrations and jealousy . . . unleashed in this very, passionate outlet. So when she pushed him back, Baron staggered though few steps to create some distance between them. There was an apology on the tip of his tongue, recognizing that he may have gone too far . . . yet the words did not come out. Perhaps a few moments of uninterrupted silence between them and they would have. But soon enough, Abra grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him with the same -- if not more -- heated zeal than he had.
Baron immediately reacted. His arms wrapped around her, skimming over her back while one went to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her golden locks. With his hold on her, he took a few steps forward, forcing her back until she was against the wall. He pressed his entire body against her, keeping her somewhat pinned in this position. His lips hungrily moving against her mouth, tongue slipping between her lips in a battle for dominance. Breathing heavily through the kiss, as if he was a suffocating man in need of oxygen; her being the air he needed to find ease. One hand went back to her waist, his other skimming in a repeated path along the side of her body, unable to touch her enough with this heated frenzy.
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Grounder | Azgeda
I am Iron. And I forge myself.
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Tag me @abra
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Post by Abra on Nov 19, 2018 11:11:59 GMT
So gather ye demons, it seems it's your day I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves Her back hit the wall with a thud, halting any retreat she could have made, not that she wanted to escape him. This moment, the kisses, the touching, was unlike any moment they had shared and she found that she liked it. Abra liked this side of him; the aggressive, dominate man, the rough, alpha male that wasn't afraid to fight with her or try to put his woman in her place. She liked seeing him loose his composure and let his emotions out. It was dangerously addictive.
His hands on her was an adrenaline rush she couldn't get enough off, spurring her own rough touches. She wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, keeping his mouth cemented to hers, stopping him from pulling away. The other went around his middle, her nails dragging down his back, and she silently damned the fabric acting as a barrier between them, preventing skin on skin contact. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin, how his frustration and the fight left him inflamed inside and out.
Her lips parted for him, her tongue waging war with his, her teeth nipping at his lower lip as she pushed against him, rising to the tips of toes to gain some leverage. Her back was still to the wall, his larger frame keeping her trapped there. Abra broke the kiss of only a moment, a second, to draw in a breath to quench the burning in her lungs, before her mouth found his again, devouring his kisses, drinking from him like a woman possessed.
She was still angry at him, still fuming because of the fight. But the taste of him, the feel of him pressed against her, the heat of his body, the fire of his kiss, was replacing that anger with hunger; a hunger that demanded to be satisfied. "Baron," She couldn't stop his name from escaping her, the way she moaned it, the way her nails dug into the small of his back to pull him closer, the way she kissed him like she was begging him for more.
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Post by Baron Tseng on Nov 20, 2018 1:30:54 GMT
Baron knew that this wasn't a healthy way to settle an argument -- not that anything was settled. He was fully aware that a conversation would still need to happen. But right now, he just needed to silence their words. He wanted to show her that there was no reason to feel . . . how she felt, about any other woman. That, and his emotions had just gotten the better of him. Her own reaction more than encouraging as he felt her nails drag down his clothed back. He breathed against her lips, letting out a huff of breath before sharply inhaling as she nipped at his lip. But it wasn't enough to stop him.
He wondered if anything was at this point. She paused, at which point he took advantage of the brief break by taking in a few breaths before the broken contact was too much to bare, and their lips found one another's with unsated hunger. His chest heaved against hers, basking in her attentions, as he did the feel of her body. One hand gently squeezed her thigh before roaming over her, the other falling at her other side. And somehow, they began to slide under the fabric of her shirt, until he felt the heat of her skin. His palms ran over her sides, not pulling her shirt up completely but hoisting it a little. The way she said his name was music to her ears.
But with the word, and recognition of where his hands were, and what he was close to doing . . . realization of where he was quickly set in: his office. It was late, but that didn't mean someone couldn't just wander in. He slowly broke out of the kiss, but didn't go far, their lips brushed against one another as he heavily breathed against her, his forehead touching Abra's. He couldn't pull his hands away with the same ease he had his lips -- and even then, it was damn difficult to do so. The internal battle causing him to look at her through heavily lidded eyes, filled with passion, his hands slowly slipping out from under her shirt. He feared the return of the conversation, not wanting it. And only wanting her.
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Grounder | Azgeda
I am Iron. And I forge myself.
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Post by Abra on Nov 20, 2018 14:26:17 GMT
So gather ye demons, it seems it's your day I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves The mood shifted suddenly, without warning. One moment he was kissing her like his life depended on it, like it was the most important thing in his world, like he was drunk and couldn't get enough of the taste of her, and then he was pulling away. A noise welled up from her chest, a mixture of protest and disappointment, as his lips left hers and the warmth of his hands left her skin. Abra allowed a few minutes to pass to give them both time to catch their breath, and so she could study the look in his eyes.
She saw the fire that was threatening to engulf him, the haze of lust and desire that was clouding his better judgement. He wanted this. Wanted to continue the kisses, the touches. But there was also recognition, a remembrance of where exactly they were. His office. Abra remembered now: she'd come to talk with him and it had escalated into a fight. Their public placement didn't matter to her. Baron had started something that needed finishing.
There was only a moment's pause before she was kissing him again with the same frenzied vigor, her tongue delving into his mouth to resume the battle with his. Her palms went to his chest as she pushed off the wall, stepping forward, trying to push him back, to force him against the desk across the room. Her hands dropped from his chest, fingers dragging down his body, to his hips, and then to the buckle of his trousers. "Don't be a tease." Abra warned in a whisper.
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Post by Baron Tseng on Nov 21, 2018 0:42:28 GMT
Baron knew that in the broken contact of their lips, he should allow rationality to set back in. It should be enough time for him to fully recognize that this was not the place . . . and that he should step back. But, that time never came. Instead, he returned the kiss with equal fervency, parting his lips to allow her access as he drank in her addictive taste. His body shifted back with her pushing him . . . crossing the distance until he felt the edge of what he presumed was his desk against his lower back. Her hand on his buckle was doing nothing to cease his growing need for her. His hands went to her cheek, mouth working against hers, breathing heavily into the embrace.
His hands slid down her slender curves, resting on her waist. Not wasting a moment, he swiftly spun her around and lifted her up so that she was seated on the edge of the table, not breaking the contact of their lips. Her words registered somewhere in his mind, calling him a tease. Perhaps it was true . . . Baron wasn't even certain. He only knew that conflict was growing more and more difficult to battle. His hands moved to her knees, slightly parting her legs a little so that he could stand comfortably between them, her position on the desk giving her a slightly elevated height as he continued to kiss her.
His lips began to move along her jaw line, before moving downward as one hand moved to brush back her hair to give him access to her neck. With the now exposed skin, he created a trail of kisses along the plains of her neck while his other hand caressed her thigh, sliding up and down it. "We shouldn't . . . " He began to say between each kiss, breathless from the intensity of their interactions. "Go any further," he finally finished, though made no move to stop his actions, enjoying the taste of her skin, and the way she felt under his touch.
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Grounder | Azgeda
I am Iron. And I forge myself.
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Tag me @abra
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Post by Abra on Nov 21, 2018 16:07:18 GMT
So gather ye demons, it seems it's your day I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves Abra loved how he didn't relinquish control even when she attempted to trap him against his own desk. She liked that about him; how he was willing to fight for dominance, how he wasn't afraid to take charge. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he lifted her onto the desk, clutching to him like a lifeline when his mouth found her neck and electricity shot through her. This time she didn't try to fight the moan that was wrenched from her, the way her body responded to touches, how she wanted and needed more.With his hips nestled between her thighs, one of her hands went to the back of his head, fingers weaving in his darkened locks, pulling him with her as she laid back on the desk. Something hit the ground, pens, paperwork, it didn't matter. All that mattered in the moment was how incredible it felt having him pressed up against her, hovering over her like some falling shadow, his mouth leaving kisses against her throat, her hips rolling against his."Why not..." Those were the only words she managed to get out between the kisses, and touches,and heavy breaths. It was his office, his building; what was stopping them? Nothing. Her unwillingness to stop was evident in how she was shoving the jacket from his shoulders, how her thighs were squeezing his hips, how she vocalised the pleasure of his touches and kisses, how she continued to encourage his wanton behaviour.
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