Logs:Better Than Rumors

From NorCon MUSH
Better Than Rumors
"Tell me what you know and I'll do what I can to fill in the blanks."
RL Date: 4 July, 2015
Who: H'vier, Yesia
Type: Log
What: H'vier takes Yesia on a date.
Where: Secluded Beach, Ista Island
When: Day 1, Month 3, Turn 38 (Interval 10)
Mentions: Edyis/Mentions, Farideh/Mentions, Fayla/Mentions, Laine/Mentions, Lilah/Mentions, Tayte/Mentions
OOC Notes: Summer heat. NSFW.


Icon h'vier really.jpg Icon yesia flight.png


>---< Secluded Beach, Ista Weyr(#733RJ) >------------------------------------<

  Surrounded by dense jungle is an empty beach that provides just enough    
  space for two or three dragons to land. Velvety black sands are swept     
  relentlessly by waves, stark white foam sliding seaward after the receding
  waters. Ista's main beach lies somewhere to the north, but it's impossible
  to see from such a secluded cranny on the coastline. The jutting fingers  
  of the Weyr are still visible beyond the dense jungle canopy, but there is
  the illusion that here and now there is no one else on all of Pern.


True to his word, H'vier takes Yesia where she's asked to go. Well, not exactly where she's asked to go. This isn't Ista Weyr. Or even Ista Hold. But it's on Ista Island (probably), so it still counts. Reisoth drops the pair of them off on the beach and stands patiently while H'vier helps Yesia down and proceeds to remove anything that was brought along from the bronze's straps. "Do you know how to build a fire?" The sun hasn't set yet, but it presumably will before H'vier plans on taking the weyrling back to the Weyr. Fortunately there's already a pit built out where there's been a fire in the past.

In H'vier's defense, Yesia could have provided more specificity. A response of, "Ista?" when asked where she'd like to go, clearly an uncertain query, allowed plenty of room for interpretation. It's not that Yesia is perturbed for long, though. On Reisoth's neck, she seems content to be looking down at beaches, to have the warmth of the sun though it's fading, to see the ocean beneath skies that aren't crowded oppressive grey clouds. She lets H'vier help her down and wanders a few steps away, smiling to herself, considering the water until his question reaches her. "What? Oh. Uh. Yes, I think so?" Promising, that is. She leans over the fire pit to see what might be inside, which isn't much flammable, as it turns out. "I can get firewood," is more confident. Finding that's easy.

"Good. Just find anything dry and it will work fine." H'vier pulls off his jacket and his shirt, because it's warmer here than it is at Reaches, before he continues with removing the rest of the bronze's straps. Once that's done and he has things where they should be, he can even help Yesia with the whole gathering flammable things and getting a fire going. "I brought some wine. And a bit to snack on, if you get hungry." But the wine is perhaps all the bronzerider thinks they'll need. "Did you bring a suit?" he asks with a nod of his head toward the water as if this is all completely normal and not at all awkward. Possibly because it's not at all for him.

Yesia's obligingly obedient, or maybe she's only belligerent when she's cold and unhappy. She hums her agreement and saunters off towards the treeline, plucking up larger sticks and pieces of log as she goes, speaking only when he comes to help her bring it back. "It's pretty here. We're doing visualizations, and Aeaeth asked someone about water, and she got an image of this. Or something like it." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why she's not allowed to between yet. "I thought the beach sounded nice. The one at Tillek...isn't." She doesn't even cozy up to the fire when it's started, just gives him a coy smile for the wine, which she didn't bring. "Oh. Shards!" She looks a little stricken. The one thing she was supposed to bring, not here.

"The beach is nice. It's been turns since I lived here, but I still like coming sometimes. To relax. And think." And other things that she can probably imagine but that H'vier doesn't explicitly point out. He considers Yesia for a few moments, then glances out over the water, where Reisoth has since made himself comfortable. "I suppose I could not wear mine, too, if you'll have to swim naked. To make you more comfortable." Of course. Never mind that he's assuming that she would swim naked. "Or I can sit here and you can enjoy yourself." See? Totally nice guy.

"You lived here?" she asks, eyes wide. "Why would you leave? For High Reaches, of all places. It's so different." Yesia's little nose wrinkles up. She finally gets around to shedding her own jacket - the blouse beneath is for the weather, light-weight and clingy, light blue and hanging off one shoulder. She sits down to work on her boots, unlacing them and kicking them away, then losing her socks too before she stands again to dig her toes into the sand. "If Irianke was from Ista, I would have transferred for sure when they told us they were taking volunteers," she declares, padding her way towards the surf. "Maybe," she says. "Half the point of coming was for the water. It's not the same, going to the hot springs."

"It wasn't by choice. I never would have chosen to transfer to Reaches of my own accord. It's just something that happens sometimes." H'vier doesn't offer more than that about it. "I did consider, very briefly, the idea of volunteering myself for Igen. But I don't think I was quite what they were looking for." And he has quite a lot he'd have to give up at High Reaches. He follows slowly after Yesia, perhaps not wanting to crowd her. At least until he bothers to crouch down to unlace his boots and take them off. He doesn't seem in a hurry to take off his pants, anyway. "You could still ask to transfer here if you really wanted."

"Oh," Yesia's mouth purses down into a frown. "That's terrible. I don't love Reaches," she admits, and now she's at the edge of the water, putting her toes in carefully and then withdrawing when she finds the water still cold enough to brace for. "But it's familiar now. And Igen only wanted greens and blues, didn't they? I thought I might grow to like it more." A shrug that says she hasn't. "Do you think they'd let me transfer here? Aeaeth would love this." She bends down to roll up her pant legs, just below the knee, and wade further in. A test, if you will.

"They wanted green and blue weyrlings, yeah. I doubt they would have taken me even if I'd seriously wanted to leave." That's less interesting to H'vier than Yesia is right now, though. As soon as he's back on his feet and heading closer to the water, he points out, "You don't have to be shy, by the way. I can't promise I won't look." Because he's probably done that already, "But I won't touch you. Not unless you want me to." Or he gets carried away. But same thing, really. Then, "I think K'del is nice enough to try to give people what they want." The way he says it isn't a compliment, exactly.

"K'del is nice," she agrees, too into wading into the water to really catch the subtle nuances he's dropping. "Maybe I'll ask," sounds dubious, but she considers him. He has been terribly nice so far, a gentleman by all regards. And the water does feel very nice, and the sun is still up, and there is nobody else.... "You're nicer than everyone says you are," needs to be said, whether or not it's true, as she takes the steps back to the shore. She's messing at the button on her pants as she comes, not at ease, exactly, but apparently deciding the odds are worth it. "You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"

"I'm nice to people who are nice to me," allows the bronzerider with some measure of sincerity. "I'm sure at least some of my reputation has been well-earned. But people talk. Especially women." Yes, some of H'vier reputation has been well-earned where women are concerned especially. But he's not leering at the weyrling right now, while she thinks about taking her clothes off. "Not as such, no. Not anymore. Are you thinking about applying for the position?" It's amused teasing.

She looks at him suspiciously, like he's goading her. "That's what I am, too. And it's made me miserable. Don't you care when people hate you?" She's interested in the answer, studying his face, as if she has the skills to detect him lying. He mocked her for flushing before, but it happens again when he teases. Yesia ducks her head more, shaking her head and focusing on her fastens. Her shrug is awkward. "I just - people have rules, and it's not like Holds. You can't tell when someone's got someone else, or how serious it is from looking. No big rings or anything. I don't want some...angry greenrider to find me because I'm on a date with you."

"Not usually, no. I can't control how other people feel. And the only people who matter are the people who are close to me." H'vier is unapologetic about that. "Would you like me to list off all of the people I've fucked recently? Or just the ones that I might be fucking again soon? Anyway, the only greenrider who would have any right to jealousy isn't the jealous sort. It's part of why I like her. She does her thing, I do mine. And sometimes we do our things together." So romantic! "Weyrwoman Lilah has been enjoying my company. But that's just sex. There hasn't been anyone else with any regularity."

"What about when the people you're close to aren't close? Is that why you...sleep around?" It's delicately asked. "I don't want a list, no. I just - made a mistake recently, and I don't want to do it again. I promised I would be more careful, is all." His explanations - and the mention of Fort's weyrwoman - give her brief pause. "Could you turn around really quick?" she asks, her thumbs hooked in the waist of her pants. She's a little shy, then.

"I 'sleep around' because I enjoy getting off," says H'vier, turning around as she's asked him to, but using the time to work at the fastenings to his own pants. It doesn't take him long to get naked. He's probably had a lot of practice at it. "I suppose I didn't sleep around so much when I was with Tayte. But I haven't been in a really serious relationship other than her." And it didn't really work out, since he's presumably not with her anymore. "Is that what you're looking for? A relationship with someone?"

Yesia's mouth makes a little 'o' for that explanation that he probably misses in turning away, She disrobes quickly, to beat out his turning back around, and goes into the water with less trepidation because it offers some security for being so naked. "Not exactly," she says. "I mean. I don't really like anyone enough for that. I wouldn't mind...people to talk to. People that aren't weyrlings and don't treat me like --" A shrug. "I was looking for, well. The weyrlingmasters all said I should find someone who is experienced. And trustworthy. To learn from."

H'vier, by contrast, has no modesty to speak of. But he's fortunately not making this more awkward for her by being, uh, overtly interested. He doesn't just stand around hanging out and proud, though. He'll make his way into the water until he's covered around the waist when he sits down, settling there comfortably while he watches Yesia without staring. "I imagine that's good advice. But I'm not sure it's necessary. When the time comes, you'll want it as much as she does. And you might be sore after whether you've prepared or not, depending on who has you. At least when you're lost in a flight, you don't care so much if it hurts a bit. Or who you're with."

Yesia makes it out into the water until she's covered to mid-chest, careful. She turns back to look at H'vier, is surprised by what she sees, and turns her eyes to the horizon with measured care. She waits to hear water behind her, chances a glance and finds him seated. Maybe she was holding her breath, with the sigh she exhales. She doesn't sit, but lets her arms float in the water in front of her, her hands skimming the surface in gradual movements. She swallows. "I didn't think of that," she admits. "But...they said losing your virginity in a flight." She doesn't know, apparently. Just what she heard. "That's why I was in the lounge, even. But it's weird, because who just sleeps with strangers?" Present company excluded. "Isn't it -- hard?"

"Flights can be intense. You don't have much control over what happens. Some people are more comfortable having more control over those first experiences. Does the idea of having no choice about who you're with or what you're doing your first time bother you?" H'vier doesn't sound suggestive about the way he's asking it, rather he seems genuinely curious and his point is probably leading somewhere. "To be honest, it is difficult when you're young and insecure. It gets easier as you get older, more sure of what you do and don't enjoy. It just takes experience. Realizing how good it can be." The bronzerider seems thoughtful, leaning back on a palm while the other lifts to scratch his well-groomed beard.

"I know all that," Yesia says, sounding for the first time impatient with him. "K'zin told me, and then Quinlys, and...yes, I am. It's important. I spent my whole life telling boys I couldn't because...I was saving that for a husband. And now I don't get to do that. I should at least get to pick something, since I haven't been able to pick anything else since Aeaeth found me." Her words have a heat behind them. "I can't wait until I'm old and secure. I don't even know when Aeaeth is going to rise."

It probably won't help that H'vier grins at her. He'll refrain from laughing, at least. "I know you can't wait, gorgeous." He knows all too well that dragons have their own agendas. He moves on, asking more pointedly, "So what are you going to pick? Surely there are other weyrlings who would fall all over themselves for the chance to get between your very nice legs."

Yesia's expression sours, her lips pursing in displeasure. "That's what I thought," betrays her arrogance, her vanity. "I tried that. They said no." She's equal parts annoyed and embarrassed. "And I'd rather just ...fumble, than sleep with any of the girls in my class. Than any girl," she corrects quickly. "But I can't help that, anymore." She's looking at him very closely.

"I can't really speak from experience, but I can only guess that ending up with a girl is the least of your concerns. They can only do so much without a dick. I'm not really sure how either of you end up satisfied as it is." And H'vier has probably spent a lot of time thinking about it throughout his life. "You've at least... explored yourself, right?" After another moment, he adds, "Your clutchmates must be out of their minds. I would take the chance to have you in a heartbeat."

"It's the principle of it, sleeping with a girl. And, that," she dips her head in agreement about satisfaction, like she has any right or understanding of it. "It's just weird." The bluntness of his question takes her off guard. "Yes. Kind of. It's...I don't get very far." A damp lock falls forward, and she blows it away sideways in annoyance. "I think they're not very smart," is of her clutchmates, "and T'mic said he was waiting for someone, or something." But his last has her eyes settling on him again, unsurprised. This thought has crossed her mind, it seems. "I thought you were having me on, about taking me out. You're..." her brow furrows. "Not as bad as I thought you were going to be. To me."

H'vier studies the girl from where he sits in the surf. He probably has more questions about her experiences, but he doesn't ask them. "Are you disappointed? I could be bad." In the unlikely event that she'd prefer him that way. "I'll admit I've had an abundance of inappropriate thoughts since you took your clothes off." But since he doesn't expect the weyrling to come jump into his lap or anything, he adds, "I know some younger men that would probably be thrilled to give you a hand with your problem."

"Just surprised. You could be a little bad," Yesia lifts a hand to hold her fingers apart, an inch or so. "Not terrible, just..." Dangerous? "I'd just have to go through this all again, then," she says. "Talking to them, and finding out how they are, and making them take me on a date and seeing how long they can keep their hands to themselves when I ask them to, just to see if they're actually nice." Her smile is a secret one, like she's found dirt on him, if telling everyone he was nice to her could be blackmail material. "You could give me a hand, too. And you're here. And you...want to, you just said so." And she's quick to add, "I can learn fast," in case that's a concern.

That she might be interested in letting him have anything to do with any of that seems to surprise the bronzerider. H'vier is far from disappointed with the idea, though. "Have you been thinking about that this whole time?" That idea must be at least a little hot, judging by the way he's looking at her now. It's not completely different from what it was, but there is some deeper interest, something heated, now. "Come here," he says, not moving from where he's sitting, but lifting a hand to beckon her closer.

For all Yesia has no experience with the main event that her behaviors cause, she's got the flirting parts down. She knows how to draw her lower lip into her mouth to worry it; how to blink big eyes at him, watching his reactions. The surprise, at least, makes her laugh. "Not the whole time, exactly. Just. Well, I told you in the lounge, I couldn't just sleep with you if I didn't know I could trust you, didn't I?" So maybe, yes. "If you'd been...like people say...when we got here, I wouldn't have. But I'm learning their judgment sucks." She does hesitate for just a moment, but is ultimately willing to follow that summons, leaving her briefly exposed as the water moves lower. She eventually stops in front of him, head tilted, expectant.

His reactions are all red-blooded male. Enough so that H'vier makes no move to try standing up. It might make her uncomfortable or something. "What do people say about me? It must not be too bad, or you wouldn't have agreed to come here with me in the first place." Even if, you know, she probably didn't expect him to bring her to a lonely beach where it would only be the two of them. "And you'd probably have made sure to remember your suit." His eyes wander when they can. He doesn't try to hide the fact that they are.

"I forget things," Yesia says plainly, because it's true. Ask any of the weyrlings. She's the one who goes back for things from line. "It's - ah." She trails off, and of course she's looking, because what else is she to do? And blushing, but not retreating, even managing to stop the lift of her arms to cover herself when they start, though that's a challenge. "That you get angry. That you fight with people. You hit K'zin at the clutching party. People just...don't like you, not really. They don't like that you sleep with...lots of people. But they don't like me," she qualifies, "and I'm not bad either." They have sooo much in common!

"I do get angry sometimes. But I've been working on that. He deserved it. And I haven't hit anyone since then." The last is pointed out as though it should mean something. "Not outside of sparring, anyway. But that's different." H'vier's dark eyes return to Yesia's face. "Why don't people like you?" Then, "Come here. Sit with me." He doesn't really make it clear whether he's referring to his lap or the water beside him, but she's clearly too far away from him still.

"Everyone does. People are infuriating." So young, so jaded. She does move closer still, her boldness spent in having not covered herself under his scrutiny, and her choice of seat is beside him; the other option doesn't seem to cross her mind. "I don't know," is not entirely truthful. "When I got here, they - the girls in the barracks, Farideh and Laine and Edyis, they hated me. So it was just me and Paz, and now Paz is going to Igen. Edyis says that I'm a bitch and I deserve to be treated like one, and Farideh thinks I'm stupid and promiscuous," a derisive snort, "and Laine - Laine's just. It doesn't matter. It'll get better, when I graduate."

"Well, Yesia, I like you. You're fucking gorgeous," because that's important, "and you aren't stupid. I can only imagine some of them deserved bitchiness, and there's no shame in giving people what they deserve." H'vier moves a hand to touch the weyrling's thigh under the water, probably comforting as much as testing how she handles it. "If you need somewhere to go once you've graduated, you'll have a place in Iceberg. If you want it. Fayla would love having the chance to turn a woman I'm attracted to against me." It makes him smile. So maybe he's joking?

Yesia's "thank you" is quiet, and genuine. Where her mouth has pressed into a somber line, it finally twitches up at the corners into a tentative smile. Her eyes flick down to the water as he moves, her brows raising, but she stays - more or less. If she slides closer to him, well. "I'd like that, I think," she says of Iceberg. "I don't think anyone can turn me against you, unless they tell me you've...you've killed an entire Hold and it's true." Her wide eyes meet his. Has he killed an entire hold? "This is why I needed to get to know you. Because what I heard was wrong, and I'm sick of people telling me what to think just because they think they can." She's pressed to his side when she finishes sliding closer. "Does this mean you're going to help me?"

"I promise that I've never killed an entire Hold. And I never will. That would make me stupid. And a stupid man doesn't deserve to touch you. Not unless you tell him to." Because, hey, even H'vier can admit that some stupid people are really hot. He might even prefer them over smarter people sometimes. But not right now. "Darling, I'll help you as many times as you want me to help you." Now he sounds suggestive, arousal pitching his voice deeper. And with her all close to him now, it's easy for him to move with every intention of pulling her into his lap. Don't mind what's already there. "Tell me what you know and I'll do what I can to fill in the blanks."

"Good," is all she has for the outlandish suggestion, and the threat, and all of it. "That would be really disappointing." She laughs when he pulls her, but goes willingly enough, helping as best she can and at least keeping elbows and knees from any unpleasant knocking. Her hands end up on his shoulders, fingers flexing experimentally at the contact. "Oh," suggests it's her turn to be surprised, her eyes cutting down briefly, then back up to his eyes. She swallows visibly. "Um. I know - " she starts, but she doesn't tell him; she shows him, leaning forward to kiss him, almost chastely.

Once there's the option of lips, H'vier doesn't seem very interested in using his mouth for talking anymore. He lets her kiss him however she likes for now. They have all night. Maybe not all night with the water that's bound to cool some with the setting sun, but the bronzerider has warmer things to think about. His hands move to Yesia's hips, trying to pull her more firmly against him while his own hips lift up eagerly despite his restraint to do more. "You should stay on top," he tells her, looking at her. Does that make sense?

Yesia is slow to boldness, but her body seems to know even if nothing else does. When she deepens the kisses it is in careful, deliberate increments, encouraged by his movements, even restrained. She's pliable, soft curves that she can fit against him just so, and she's willing to do just that. "Okay," she says to his suggestion, pulling back to nod. When his hands find her hips, her own find the desire to roam - down from his shoulders, to trace the planes of his chest, flatten against his abdomen. They hesitate to go lower, though; her fingertips are gentle, maybe light enough to tickle in their uncertainty. Her eyebrows go up, questioning.

If H'vier is ticklish, he doesn't seem to show it except in maybe the flex of his muscles under her fingertips. But that could just be that he has a beautiful, more importantly naked, young woman sitting in his likewise bare lap. "You can touch whatever you want to touch, gorgeous," he assures her. "I'm all yours right now. What do you want me to do?" Surely some women must like having some measure of control, imagined or otherwise, over a man like H'vier.

A woman like Yesia, who's spent her trip lamenting her lack of control, thrills in this freedom, and her hand dips below the water to seek. "You're supposed to teach me," she laughs. But some things are informed by instinct and suggestion, are obvious. Yesia comes from jeweler stock, and her hands are nimble and clever, if testing. "Tell me what you like. What other people you've been with like?" She takes it as a safe bet that he probably likes the way she undulates into him, her mouth close to his, lips brushing his. "I just want it to be fun, the first time. And good."

"All I can really teach you is how to please me," H'vier points out, his voice betraying some distraction while her hands are touching things he very much enjoys having touched. "And I guarantee you that I'll enjoy myself." One way or another. He's enjoying himself right this moment, in fact. But he's putting effort into focusing. "Have you ever actually gotten off, Yesia?" The way he says it suggests that it's an important question and not just him trying to imagine her face when it happens. There also might be a hint of hope that her answer is affirmative.

Yesia draws back a bit, her hand slowing, stopping. "Mmmm. That's good though, right? People sometimes...go again. You don't care when you're chasing, or flying away, but afterwards. It's - courteous." That's absolutely the right word, but she's rocked back now, to look at him. "Maybe?" is not a yes, but not everything can be easy, and perfect. Her admission is abashed, and awkward, and some of that pliability goes with it, "My hand got tired." The suggestion being she hasn't tried it that much.

The sound he makes is nearly a groan, but it's not the happiest of sounds. There's protest in it, because that answer wasn't quite what he'd wanted to hear. "It's good to know how to please other people, sure. But you need to know how to please yourself. Or how to tell someone else how to please you. It's not hard to make a man happy." Compared to women, presumably. "Most of us will just be excited that you're willing, yeah?" The smart ones who don't turn her down, anyway. H'vier gives her a serious look. "This is about you right now, Yesia. Not me. Now kiss me." Because his hand is sliding between her legs to explore what makes her go and he probably doesn't trust her to relax on command.

A victory is a victory, it seems. The sightless raven that persists with Nasmaeth spreads wings as if summoned and takes flight, back from whence it came; it was deceptively cold for such a small intrusion, leaving frost behind where it had perched. « I told you, I was only trying to help. » X'vin has something to say on the point of weyrlinghood though, his smile back, chasing the end of a laugh. "Yes, true enough. But I don't know it ever got that easy for me." He grunts as he pulls one of Besmernyth's straps tighter; Besmernyth grunts too. "It's hard, being the oldest. I was twenty-four. It feels like babysitting, depending on the people your with and," a pointed look at Nasmaeth, "the demeanor of your lifemate."

Yesia looks dismayed, and pouty for his protest, withdrawing her hand from the water. "I've tried," is irritated,, but she isn't mad enough to leave. He is, after all, still making his point: it's about her, he's trying to help, and the particular nature of this encounter notwithstanding, he's being civil. She is likely comforted by the fact that he continues, even though he could stop with someone so green, an so she's willing to press close again. Her mouth is good at the kissing, the distraction - possessive even, though he's the one who told her to - and what gets her going isn't hard to figure. She's sensitive and responsive. When he touches her just right there are hiccups in her pacing: inhales sharply, breathing his exhalations, kissing forgotten; her arms will go weak from where she's leveraged against him, and she'll bury her face in his neck. "There," she says, "there, don't." Which is, do, and if he listens, she'll forget all about kissing to tremble, twitch, make a delightful sound into him that ends breathlessly, her fingers relaxing from where they've dug into him.

Even if it's only fingers for him, H'vier obviously enjoys the way she reacts to them. His free hand holds her steady at the small of her back and by the time she's trembling against him, the bronzerider's breathing is heavier, needier. Restraining oneself is hard, man. "Fuck, you're beautiful when you come," he murmurs as if it's an honest to goodness compliment. He probably thinks that it is. "And once you figure out how to do it for yourself, you won't even need me." It's deep, aroused teasing. But he's definitely not ready for her not to need him yet, even if that hand he was using for her is working slowly at himself now.

Yesia laughs, sounding tired, not bothering to parse out if it really is a compliment or not. She's light in his lap as she adjusts, running a hand through her curls and looking at him with kiss-swollen lips and flush to her cheeks. "I doubt it's more fun alone," she says at length, but points out, helpfully, "I'm still a virgin," technically, "but we're making progress. You're being very thorough." And she can help, encourage, with her hands free now and her breath caught, her eyes bright with lust. "Nobody is going to do any of that, during flights. I read it." All hail the healer tomes.

H'vier isn't even a little bit tired, so when Yesia starts to get more encouraging, the bronzerider will let her hands, however less experienced they are, take over from his so his can do more exploring. "Nobody will do any of that during a flight, no. That's why it's important to do it now. So you know it can be good. Not that flights aren't good. They're great." He's distracted, but his mouth keeps running until he finally asks, "Can I fuck you now?"

No preamble, then, for this. The nod of her head is unmistakable, but for good measure, she manages, "That was the point." Not that the rest hasn't been well worthwhile. But this is his part; she's hobbled at this part of the learning curve.

He laughs at that, but he doesn't bother with more talking, instead busying his mouth with her skin. H'vier is careful about how it starts, letting her set that pace. Once she's comfortable, he's not aggressive, but he's not exactly worried about breaking her, either. At some point he'll carry her further up the beach, back toward the fire where it's warmer, if sandier. And later he'll take her to Ista Weyr for a proper meal, if she's still up for it, because he can be an asshole, sure, but he's not above spoiling the women who are willing to have sex with him.



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