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Crabb breathes a deep, shuddering breath and her fingers curl tighter into the material of Erin's clothes. She would never have dared to try and put thoughts like that into words only weeks ago, it's... still difficult to get the knot it makes in her throat to dislodge. To even really find the words in the first place.

"C-Christ this was easier to admit over text..." she laughs breathlessly, tilting her head so she can nose at Erin's jaw and just... take a moment. When she does find her words, it isn't... as articulate, as explicit, as perhaps it could be; still a woman of her time and culture, still learning how to navigate something new, but she tries. "When— when you got me pinned like that, there's all this— this adrenaline, but I still know I'm safe with you and I— I think about you kissing me and I think about you sorta undressin' me and— and touching me and I don't even really know what it'll feel like but. Fuck, Erin."

Her face is going back against Erin's body, now, burning even hotter.

"Fuck is the idea," Erin teases softly, into Crabb's ear. "Listen carefully, love. I'm gonna be gentle, and I might be just a little mean because I love teasing you. But if you need a breather, or to slow down, you tell me 'yellow'. If you need it to stop, hit me with 'red'. And I'll do the same back, yeah?"

Is Erin walking the two of them closer to the bed in little motions? Yes, yes she is.

Crabb headbutts her gently for the tease, though it helps, in its way, has her smiling. Despite the nerves, she's relaxed enough with Erin that there's no resistance to the movement back towards the bed little by little, she goes with it easily.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. She nods. "Slow down, yellow. Stop, red. Yeah. Okay."

"Keep it in mind," Erin murmurs. "People can get caught up about thinking it's only for when the ropes and such come out, or not wanting to disappoint their partner, but it's for anything at all. Even something as little as me thinking you want a kiss when you don't."

Erin follows that up with a takedown onto the bed, hooking her ankle behind Crabb's and pressing one hand into the center of her chest for a gentle pin.

"That said," Erin purrs, leaning over her lover, "I do think I'm going to make you do laundry by the time we're done."

A quick flash of defensive tension is the only thing that betrays Crabb's reflexes from training trying to kick in, a flash that passes near instantly into a shudder and heavy breathing undeniably strained by arousal by the time she's on her back. Crabb swallows, hard, eyes locked on Erin as she leans over her. Already she's hyperaware of the point of contact, the hand holding her down, and how close Erin is. How much closer they're going to get.

"G-God, Erin—"

"Yes, love?" Still purring, looking oh-so-pleased with herself. Erin leans down for a deep kiss, distracting Crabb from the hands that are working to unbutton her top. Maybe the passion of the moment will take them elsewhere, but by God she has a plan in mind and Erin's going to at least try to go for it; to give Crabb a taste of both gentle affection and of the dangerous woman she first felt lust for.

As if she had anything to follow up with even if Erin didn't immediately take all thought of saying anything more away from her. Crabb presses up into the kiss eagerly, hands finding Erin's hair; it can't totally draw her attention away from the buttons being popped loose, from what is as much a first as a fantasy happening right here and now, but it certainly stops her from getting too up in her head about it.

Christ, this is really happening—

When she's forced to withdraw a little for air, sooner than she usually would, she breathes, "Erin. Now we're— if you need—" another breath, "if you use my name, call me Honoria, a-alright?"

If there's any damn time to let go of the surname thing...

"Mmm. Honoria..." Erin's musing comes with opening her lover's shirt up, exposing what's beneath, exploring it with squeezing touches that send thrills through Erin's chest. "What if I like Crabb? If I love how pinchy and protected you are, if I adore your fight and your handsome armor and your callouses?"

A finger hooks the center of Crabb's bra. "And...how attached are you to owning this?"

It gets a lot harder to think with Erin's hands roaming the way they do, Crabb's face reaching brands new shades of colour as her head drops back against the bed. Not that the worlds themselves do anything to help the fluster, Erin cutting to the heart with the reminders of what she loves about her the way she does. Gathering her thoughts into words takes far longer than is fair, it already feels tricky to explain without toeing on ruining the mood but—

"I-I love that you love it, love all that, I do, just— I-I don't let a lotta people use Honoria and I think I wanna— wanna hear you sayin' it with all that love." The emphasis is loud, she hopes loud enough to get her point across without her having to spell out who the last person to use her name in anything close to this context was.

Deep, deep breath, then nodding vaguely towards her chest. "...a-and well, I ain't gonna run out, so."

"There's my fierce flower," Erin praises softly. She kisses her lover's cheek. "Now hold very still, Honoria."

Erin pulls a knife free, a single-edged blade whose gray steel reflects no light. She works it under the bra, between Honoria's breasts, holding her breath to steady her hand.

The blade comes up, and that's it for the poor innocent bra, which separates as its tension is quite literally cut. Erin throws the blade into the floor, where it sticks, quivering.

...yeah, yeah she likes hearing Erin say it. The way a smile tugs at her lips is unmistakable.

Crabb goes still, even holds her breath; just watching Erin draw the knife is enough to hit her with another shot of adrenaline that quickly becomes more than that, let alone what Erin proceeds to do with it. As the material gives and the knife is thrown away she lets out all that held breath at once in a, "Jeezus Christ..."

She squirms a little, as if getting all the stillness out of her the same way as she released the breath.

Erin's own breath comes out long and steady, a fierce smile dawning on her lips. "They do say if you don't sin, Jesus died for nothing."

She brushes the halves of Honoria's bra aside; Erin cups her girlfriend's cheek in one hand and her breast in another, fondling, playing. "...It's more than a little hypocritical of me but I've been waiting to stare at these since we shared that shower, love. How sensitive are you -" a light pinch, right on the nipple, - here?"

There's a playfully indignant little huff at that first comment. A little part of her is still keenly aware of how this would be taken at home, but fortunately, a much larger and much louder part of her just doesn't care right now. Hell, it only cares less when Erin's hand finds her breast; all thought of anything but Erin right here and now goes out the window about then, actually.

She presses her face into Erin's hand, her own coming up to grasp at the back of it. Thank God, really, for the fact they did share that shower, she's a little more prepared for this right now than she might have been otherwise—though her face only gets warmer at the reminder that Erin can see, this time.

Even that follows the rest out of the window at the little pinch. Her breath catches, her face nuzzles more into Erin's touch, and there's the return of the whine-like noise from before. "G-God I dunno, not— not like I can compare, but—" at least she's not trying to restrain her reactions that can speak for her when she can't.

"Sounds like you like it," comes the breathless response. Erin lets her hand roam, pinching and squeezing, letting the sounds Honoria makes drive her wild. It's not the mad lust she had with Daisy...

...It's so much better.

"Now...keep your hands out of my hair while I lick them." Erin flashes her teeth. "Or they get bitten. We square, Honoria?"

"W-Well I could've told you that much," is about all she gets out before all that's coming out of her is noises again, and until Erin's flashing her teeth.

Crabb swallows hard and nods firmly, hands flexing in a sort of acknowledging instinct where her arms splay loosely above her, out of the way and less likely to try and grasp at her hair.

"Mmhm. O-Okay. W-We're square."

Erin draws herself to Crabb's chest slowly, savoring the moment, breathing quick and hard. She's gonna die at the wedding, and the thought of Johnny berating her corpse gets a tinkling laugh.

"If you need to keep your hands busy, get your pants undone. Keep 'em on, love."

And then Erin's mouth is on Crabb's breasts, her only thought to not stop until her love is either begging or can't speak.

The first thing Crabb's hands do is curl into fists right where they are, right around the second that the mix of little sounds becomes a real moan that she has to fight the instinct to bite back. Her teeth keep finding her lip, only for her to release it, a repeating cycle.

She finds herself subconsciously pressing her torso up a little from the bed before she gets around to the conscious thought to do as Erin said, at last. Idle uncertainty that it'll keep her hands occupied more than a second or two quickly dissipates when she realises how much she's fumbling with the button, thanks to being so utterly distracted by Erin's mouth.

A breathless laugh escapes her and transforms into another noise half-way through, which itself melts into a quiet curse.

One last little lick, and then Erin nuzzles Honoria's breast with her cheek. She can't stop smiling, not even with her cheeks so red and her body both demanding to stop and to push it further, to let herself be touched in turn...

"Thank you, Honoria," she whispers. "For taking a chance on loving a wild thing like me. You've been very brave." A little kiss, against the softness of her tit. "Are you ready?"

"Mmm. Take a lot of chances, me; knew it'd pay off." It's warm and full of love and a miracle that she can even speak steadily. There's a thousand other little things she could say, wants to say, but much more than that is currently beyond her, sensation and want has taken over far too much of her conscious thought. "M'ready, y-yeah."

Erin's hand glides down, wriggles its way into Honoria's pants and into her underwear, touching, teasing with delicate fingers.

"Last chance to not have to change out of these pants," Erin murmurs. Her full attention is on her lover's face.

She has to see this.

Crabb's breathing quickens just a little as Erin's hand travels, thrum of anticipation under her skin, only to catch and stall when it slips beneath clothing. The colour in her face couldn't get much darker if it tried, but it doesn't need to, the way her eyes screw shut, the way her head rolls, the way she once again tries and fails to muffle the pleased noises that slips past her lips, the way her hands have moved now to curl into the sheets—that all says plenty.

The only answer the warning gets is a little shake of her head. Right now that would require moving she doesn't want to do, time she doesn't feel like wasting, and truth be told there really is something about not being fully undressed that only makes this hotter, something she couldn't articulate right now if she tried.

Christ, this is all so new— "G-God, Erin, please."

"Aww, and I wasn't even aiming to hear you beg. This time."

Erin shows mercy; delicate fingers slip inside, and she gives herself over to the delicious thrill of pleasuring Honoria, of watching every look on her face, every breath that makes her chest heave.

"Cum hard for me," Erin whispers. "Be good and I'll take my shirt off next time even. Give you something tasty to look at for all your hard work..."

Crabb hardly knows what to do with herself, laying there and letting Erin just take her to pieces. If Erin thought she was reactive day-to-day, that certainly doesn't change here as she finds herself overwhelmed in the best way. She can't stay still, or quiet, or stop her face doing what it does—she doesn't really try, not with the way she can see Erin focused on her, watching her. She could draw her arms up over her face if she wanted, but— she doesn't. She's never felt so exposed and yet so comfortable with being exposed.

She can't even quite untangle her tongue to curse by the time Erin is whispering at her, again, and it really doesn't take much more than that to take her there. It's only as the fresh flood of sensation hits that she comes close to trying to hide her face and even then it's little more than rolling her head to press it against the sheets. It doesn't hide anything, doesn't muffle her; all it does is make it just that bit clearer as she does exactly as she's told.

Erin bends low to kiss Honoria's cheek. "My fierce flower," she murmurs, before she takes her hand back. Erin inspects it for a moment, looking very be satisfied, before deciding one more little torment before cuddles can't hurt.

She licks her fingers clean. Erin is in no rush about it.

The noise that comes out of Crabb watching that? Is somewhere between a whimper and a whine, followed up with an almost strained, "J-Jeezus fucking Christ, Erin," which... is a first out of her mouth, actually, in terms of curses put in that order.

That doesn't stop her from watching, though. Not even for a second.

She's jelly, otherwise. Complete and utter jelly. Feeling warm and relaxed and loved and relieved, in a way; she doesn't feel like she made a fool of herself, she doesn't feel like she's done something wrong, she's just... at ease, still buzzing faintly from the high of it all.

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Things Get Explicit From Here Forward, Readers Be Warned

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