3 Ashan 720
[Continued from here.]
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"You look like you're up to no good....I'm not sure."
"Hmmm...." his eyes ran over her in thought. Perhaps he could push his luck, he just needed to make sure he didn't go too fast, "If you don't like it, we can stop. You've completed your end of the deal. That means I have to listen to you, no questions asked."
She had forgotten!
Yeva's face brightened and she laughed, "Oh, then I'm in."
"Good, good. I'm going to ask you a question about medicine. If you make any sound that's not answering my question... Hmm... What should be your consequence?"
"You could pinch me?"
He snorted, although the line of thinking was interesting, "How about a slap?"
"Is it gonna hurt?" Yeva crawled around the floor so that she was no longer sitting behind him.
"Maybe."
"Then no!"
"Are you sure? We haven't even tried it."
"Whaa... What if I win a round?" she leaned back, drunkenly propped up on her elbows and closed her eyes. The wine was taking over, "Do I slap you?"
"Sure."
She wouldn't remember when they began. Azrael wanted to play and he grinned when she finally gave her approval. Snatching up her foot, adorned in a sock, he began to tickle her arch with his nails. At once she began to squirm and shriek laughter, "What's this bone?" he gripped her heel and held it against his abdomen while she struggled to suppress the drunken giggles, "Yeva, what is it?"
"Aaaa, ah, aaa," he tickled her again and she laughed louder, desperately trying to twist from his grip. On her belly, she tried to claw herself away to no avail, "Calcaneo! Calcaneo!"
The Avriel had no idea if that was right but his hands stilled, "You made noise."
"You cheated," she blurted once she garnered enough breath, "Cheater."
"I still won that round. Do you want me to stop?"
She huffed and then shook her head. Now that she thought she knew the rules, she was more determined to beat him. He always liked that fire in her eyes. "Good." Azrael brought an open palm swiftly against her rear, unable to stop himself from taking the opening when she least expected it. Yeva yelped, and this time he let her draw away, daring her shocked expression to tolerate it. She couldn't piece together coherent words. Was she angry or confused? Surprised, certainly.
They stared at each other, and then Azrael tapped the back of her leg, unapologetic, "What's this?"
"...Achilles Tendon."
"This?"
"Fibula."
"Name... three muscles in the lower leg," to demonstrate, or perhaps apologize, he began to massage her calf.
Yeva swallowed. Her ass was still warm from his hit, but the pain was fading. She would need to choose her words carefully to avoid another, and she closed her eyes to try and imagine the diagram she had studied in class, "Soleus, Tibialis Anterior, Peroneus Longus."
"Good. Here?" he slid his hand higher, tapped her kneecap, and when she opened her mouth to speak, traced the tender area behind her knee and so she had to clamp a hand over her mouth before she made another noise. Fast learner, "I thought you knew this one."
Yeva clenched her stomach, "Patella! Also known as kneecap!" she snorted to repress her laughter and then he stopped, eyebrows raised.
"Hm, that was a close one," Azrael's attention was drawn to the red haired beauty, and he found himself wanting to do more... To explore more... He rolled forward and began to close the distance between them. Yeva was starting to have fun, ever delighted to find new ways of studying. This certainly was different than any way she had learned anatomy and had more consequence than reading textbooks, "Three more. Upper leg."
"Vastus lateralis, vastus medialis and..."
"And?"
Her mind was blanking, "I..." I don't remember.
"Get on your knees."
"Wait! I know this."
"Yeva," he rose, wings spreading and she caught herself shocked by how intimidating he could be. His voice had been commanding, serious. It reminded her of Athart, "3... 2..."
She didn't tell him to stop. She tensed instead, and so he pulled himself atop her, slapping her once more, the blow resounding in the rented space. He pulled back, afraid he might have struck her too hard. His hand hovered, but she deepened her breath to keep her voice from rising. The sign of submission was enough to make his feathers rustle, and he couldn't stop the hands that began to roam her back. How he yearned to see it without a shirt.
She mistook his weakness for continuation, "Lattisimus dorsi."
Azrael's hands felt... good. In comparison to the blow, the gentle kneading reminded her of the bread rising on the counter and she relaxed beneath his touch. She had never been given a massage before and so rested her cheek against the floor, mindful of where he touched and tried to recall the muscle group. Between the alcohol, the shifting affection, and the comfort she felt with him... Yeva liked it, even wanted him to go lower.
The Avriel shifted his weight, his breath washing over her neck when he spoke, igniting a wave of electricity to rush across her skin, "We should stop."
Her eyes opened and the disappointment in her voice felt like an arrow through his chest, "Why?"
"Because," he breathed, inhaling the scent of her hair. Peppermint, spice, and everything nice. What had he been thinking? He gripped her hips, imagining things he knew he shouldn't, "Soon, I won't be able to."
Yeva twisted beneath him, pushing back those maddening curls with a shy smile. She seemed to glow, "Maybe...maybe I don't want you to stop."
Maybe?
Azrael's breath caught, deepening to a groan when Yeva pushed upwards and began to grind against him. The simple act was enough to spur any doubt far away from his mind and he snaked an arm around her waist, quite excited by the turn of the anatomy lesson, "The things I've wanted to do..."
Yeva whimpered, melting beneath his touch, "Azrael," she gasped, panting beneath each kiss, each greedy reach of his hands, "Azrael-"
"Azrael, wake up!"