( rowena can tell from his tone what he means, that the isn't shame towards her but almost reverence, that he perhaps should have come to her with this sooner. or more confidently, but she can overlook it. sex magic isn't a widely known or used thing, and it's certainly a complex form of magic -- witches with little skill had no hope of being able to harness anything, even if they could build to climax. rowena had harnessed the power many times, and she had no doubts about stephen's capabilities either.
she smiles when she turns back around from gathering the supplies from her cabinet at the drink he has waiting for her, nodding at his choice. well-remembered, stephen. she places her candles on top of the cabinet, taking the drink with another smile and sipping some of it )
So you do listen to what I tell you.
( a tease at how sometimes he hasn't listened (or wanted to) about her magical theory, not when it contrasted with what he knew. both of them could be rather stubborn, she did the same. though she operated on the belief that she was right and her witchcraft wasn't entirely used as his magic was )
How simple would you like tonight to be? The more involved we are the more powerful the spell will be-- ( multiple orgasms, she means ) but even once would have enough power from us.
[ After handing over Rowena’s drink, Stephen considers her over a deep swig of his. It’s weaker than hers, but still fittingly classic, sophisticated, and a little sweet-and-sour. The alcohol conjuration was both an opportunity to show off, but also a way to take the edge off a little, smooth over the conversation, loosen him up and ease the way he usually kept people at an aloof distance. The man is an island. Sometimes he has to remind himself that it’s okay to forge connections, to let down his guard a little.
He weighs her question, and in the end, the answer’s fairly easy: ]
I don’t know about you, but I’m dreadfully tired of nightmares. If there’s any chance we can build those wards even stronger, then I’m all for taking it. And selfishly, [ his expression turns a little warmer, with an impish smile, ] the more involved we are, the more enjoyable it’d be for us both. One can mix business and pleasure, after all.
( she takes another sip before placing it on the dresser and stepping over to him )
If sex isn't enjoyable, there's little point in it.
( even magically powerful, she'd much rather enjoy the act than do it just for service. she could find other spells of power in that case. with stephen, she doubts it would be anything but enjoyable, especially with their shared reason for doing this.
rowena rests her hand on his, gently sliding the glass from it so she can free his hand, placing it also on the dresser. as she leans into him, she rests a hand against his cheek. the first brush of her lips against his is light, feeling out the kiss, before she quickly deepens it. no room for awkwardness here )
[ Whatever he’s about to say next — some wry and playful agreement, something — is distracted by Rowena closing the distance and kissing him.
And just like that, they’ve altered the foundation of their friendship.
There’s a brief moment where Stephen seems to hover on the brink of some last hesitation, an over-analytical part of his brain still overthinking it, reminding him, This is the first time you’ve kissed anyone in years, before he conscientiously sets that part of him aside. Compartmentalises, shuts the door, turns the key.
Rowena dives in and it’s a good counterpoint to all his wary caution; he soon follows suit to match her in kind, hungry mouth opening against hers with a slide of tongue, his suddenly-free hands reaching up to catch the line of Rowena’s jaw, her neck, drawing her to him and losing himself in the kiss. ]
( many thing happen: it begins with a warmth, a flutter around her heart as he pours himself into the kiss. her hand falls from his cheek, clutching at his sweater as the kiss deepens, and that warmth grows, filling her chest and beginning to pool between her legs. for all of his quick words and sharp tongue, he's a delightful kisser, and his professions of enjoyable sex become even more believable.
the kiss breaks briefly, panted breath from her before rowena leans in again, capturing his lips, and he'll feel a loosening in his pants, a light brush of her magic undoing the fastenings.
her hands don't touch him, loosening instead from him to grasp his hands, guiding them to her thighs, and starting to brush under her slip. where, he'll find, she doesn't wear underwear for bed )
[ Stephen gives a strangled laugh at the sensation of his drawstring loosening, Rowena’s magical signature humming around him, so much closer than their usual experimentation and arcane training. ]
Usually I’m the one using telekinesis for personal benefit,
[ he says, even as his hands go under the smooth, cool silk of that navy slip, rucking up the lace around the edges. He makes an appreciative noise against her mouth when he reaches the curve of bare skin and thigh, pleasantly surprised to find no scrap of fabric to navigate. And this, too, is an unexpected surprise: how low he has to duck his head to kiss her at all, how disorienting that gap between them is. He’s so accustomed to seeing Rowena in those towering heels that he hadn’t even realised how short the woman actually is; this is the first time he’s seen her so stripped down, in more ways than one.
Guided by her touch, he ducks even lower to allow his hands to drift. They aren’t as nimble and dexterous as they used to be, but still good enough for this, at least for a time: one hand remains on her thigh while the other slips between her legs, searching out the seam of her, a finger eventually brushing against her clit. ]
( she rests one hand on his shoulder, keeping her gaze on his as his fingers seek her out, a soft sound falling from her. rowena sways into his hand, a small rock against him, encouraging his touch )
I've experimented with it in many forms over the years, pleasure especially. ( when you get to her age, sometimes you need a little more than just a decent fuck.
especially if you had no lover. one day she'll tell you all about enchanted sex toys.
as her fingers brush over his shoulder he'll feel a tingle, sensing that magical signature again, an almost electric jolt running from her fingers down his back, a pleasurable touch of her magic )
[ That buzz of magic sparking down Stephen’s spine punches a hitch of indrawn breath out of him, a small gasp, and it instantly sets the mind to wondering. What else could she do with her magic, so mathematically precise, just straddling the line of electricity nipping his skin? He’s so often been the preeminent sorcerer in a room, arrogant and learned, and it’s unexpectedly delightful to find himself on the back foot for once. Her age is indeed a benefit. ]
I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, [ ha ] of mingling magic in the bedroom before, so you’ll have a few things to, ah, show me—
[ Rowena rocks into his hand as he finds the right angle. He’d been a surgeon, he’d played the piano excellently, he had once prided himself on being able to turn women into a quivering mess with nothing but his fingers alone: so he starts the leisurely circling, feeling her become wetter, his touch more slippery, the woman rising up on tiptoe into the press of his hand. The height difference means it’s not the optimal angle, however, and so he pauses to kiss her again, murmuring against her lips, ]
This might call for relocating. If you get on the bed, I can scribe the wards.
[ Because they’ll need that circle amended, the pentagram drawn to harness all the energy they’ll soon be generating. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
she smiles when she turns back around from gathering the supplies from her cabinet at the drink he has waiting for her, nodding at his choice. well-remembered, stephen. she places her candles on top of the cabinet, taking the drink with another smile and sipping some of it )
So you do listen to what I tell you.
( a tease at how sometimes he hasn't listened (or wanted to) about her magical theory, not when it contrasted with what he knew. both of them could be rather stubborn, she did the same. though she operated on the belief that she was right and her witchcraft wasn't entirely used as his magic was )
How simple would you like tonight to be? The more involved we are the more powerful the spell will be-- ( multiple orgasms, she means ) but even once would have enough power from us.
no subject
He weighs her question, and in the end, the answer’s fairly easy: ]
I don’t know about you, but I’m dreadfully tired of nightmares. If there’s any chance we can build those wards even stronger, then I’m all for taking it. And selfishly, [ his expression turns a little warmer, with an impish smile, ] the more involved we are, the more enjoyable it’d be for us both. One can mix business and pleasure, after all.
no subject
If sex isn't enjoyable, there's little point in it.
( even magically powerful, she'd much rather enjoy the act than do it just for service. she could find other spells of power in that case. with stephen, she doubts it would be anything but enjoyable, especially with their shared reason for doing this.
rowena rests her hand on his, gently sliding the glass from it so she can free his hand, placing it also on the dresser. as she leans into him, she rests a hand against his cheek. the first brush of her lips against his is light, feeling out the kiss, before she quickly deepens it. no room for awkwardness here )
no subject
And just like that, they’ve altered the foundation of their friendship.
There’s a brief moment where Stephen seems to hover on the brink of some last hesitation, an over-analytical part of his brain still overthinking it, reminding him, This is the first time you’ve kissed anyone in years, before he conscientiously sets that part of him aside. Compartmentalises, shuts the door, turns the key.
Rowena dives in and it’s a good counterpoint to all his wary caution; he soon follows suit to match her in kind, hungry mouth opening against hers with a slide of tongue, his suddenly-free hands reaching up to catch the line of Rowena’s jaw, her neck, drawing her to him and losing himself in the kiss. ]
no subject
the kiss breaks briefly, panted breath from her before rowena leans in again, capturing his lips, and he'll feel a loosening in his pants, a light brush of her magic undoing the fastenings.
her hands don't touch him, loosening instead from him to grasp his hands, guiding them to her thighs, and starting to brush under her slip. where, he'll find, she doesn't wear underwear for bed )
no subject
Usually I’m the one using telekinesis for personal benefit,
[ he says, even as his hands go under the smooth, cool silk of that navy slip, rucking up the lace around the edges. He makes an appreciative noise against her mouth when he reaches the curve of bare skin and thigh, pleasantly surprised to find no scrap of fabric to navigate. And this, too, is an unexpected surprise: how low he has to duck his head to kiss her at all, how disorienting that gap between them is. He’s so accustomed to seeing Rowena in those towering heels that he hadn’t even realised how short the woman actually is; this is the first time he’s seen her so stripped down, in more ways than one.
Guided by her touch, he ducks even lower to allow his hands to drift. They aren’t as nimble and dexterous as they used to be, but still good enough for this, at least for a time: one hand remains on her thigh while the other slips between her legs, searching out the seam of her, a finger eventually brushing against her clit. ]
no subject
( she rests one hand on his shoulder, keeping her gaze on his as his fingers seek her out, a soft sound falling from her. rowena sways into his hand, a small rock against him, encouraging his touch )
I've experimented with it in many forms over the years, pleasure especially. ( when you get to her age, sometimes you need a little more than just a decent fuck.
especially if you had no lover. one day she'll tell you all about enchanted sex toys.
as her fingers brush over his shoulder he'll feel a tingle, sensing that magical signature again, an almost electric jolt running from her fingers down his back, a pleasurable touch of her magic )
no subject
I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, [ ha ] of mingling magic in the bedroom before, so you’ll have a few things to, ah, show me—
[ Rowena rocks into his hand as he finds the right angle. He’d been a surgeon, he’d played the piano excellently, he had once prided himself on being able to turn women into a quivering mess with nothing but his fingers alone: so he starts the leisurely circling, feeling her become wetter, his touch more slippery, the woman rising up on tiptoe into the press of his hand. The height difference means it’s not the optimal angle, however, and so he pauses to kiss her again, murmuring against her lips, ]
This might call for relocating. If you get on the bed, I can scribe the wards.
[ Because they’ll need that circle amended, the pentagram drawn to harness all the energy they’ll soon be generating. ]