Mae I Have This Dance? | Embry

Nevyne’s smile stretched from ear-to-ear, displaying her sharp teeth proudly in a jagged grin. “What can I say, dear friend of mine? I’ve always had a keen eye for beauty.” She pat His arm twice. “That’s why I can see the fine craft of your suit, and every white-gold stitch woven within.”

Kupiec maintained his subtle air of superiority, His path carefully chosen. Nevyne, on the other hand, allowed her dress to be swept up by a gentle brush of a leg or careful caress of a mortal woman’s outfit. It made her outfit billow like a soft smoke behind her. She did not need to look at the god beside her to know his face was one of amusement, and truly, she felt the same; she did not have the same connection to the green-haired girl (although she did watch her dreams, on Kupiec’s suggestion), but to see someone so flustered in front of a pretty woman was always a delight. However, Nevyne’s face was a predatory one; she had hungry eyes, and she kept them focused on the dear politician, who was seemingly oblivious to their approach. All the better.

Nevyne waited for a moment after Kupiec stole away his mortal, just long enough for Embry’s mind to comprehend exactly what had happened. Then she pounced. With surprising strength (yet a tender touch), Nevyne slipped her hand into Embry’s and spun her twice away. She stopped her suddenly, pressing their bodies tight together with a forceful hand on the small of Embry’s back.

“Don’t worry, love,” she whispered, her lips brushing against Embry’s ear. Her voice was like melted chocolate- smooth and sweet, warmed with hot breath and a burning desire. “You won’t dance alone tonight.” She planted a light kiss on the mortal’s ear before laughing and falling into the dance without skipping a beat. Her icy blue eyes never left the mortal’s. The goddess was not content to simply follow suit with the expected steps; just when Embry would fall in to the familiar dance, Nevyne added her own flourish; a spin here, different footwork there… it all fell in line perfectly with the rhythm of the music. The goddess was making art tonight.

Perhaps Embry would stumble or resist; Nevyne would hold her firm with inhuman strength, and any large mistakes would flow into a flourish, as if it were intentional. Nevyne had no qualms about treating her ‘like a lady;’ her dance was punctuated with accents of carnal desire: Her thigh slid against Embry’s in all the right places, her hand on the woman’s back wandered lower more than ones, and most of the dips gave Embry an intentionally close look at the goddess’s cleavage.

When not flustering the woman with flourishes, she kept herself pressed close to her. She always smiled, and always kept eye contact. “It’s so wonderful to see you again, Lady Delacroix,” she cooed. “You are quite the dancer. Are you enjoying the evening?”

W O R D S
494

M U S I C
xxx

T A G
Kupiec | Embry Delacroix

N O T E S
And now it's time for operation NevEmbry

Nevyne grinned with delight. Dancing was fun on its own, but with such an interesting mortal, it was shaping up to be an experience for the books. So far, Embry managed to keep a straight face and a solid composure, which was exactly what the goddess expected from the Senator. But Nevyne was a goddess who enjoyed toying with her playthings. Stories were no fun if the action happened too soon, nor would a painting be so enrapturing if its meaning was easy to decipher. And so the ruse would continue.

“Mm, I see you were enjoying your time with that nervous young lady,” Nevyne cooed. “Such a tease! It was quite the sight, but I’m afraid I just had to try you out for myself after that performance of yours. I hope she’s not too cross with me~” As cross as a fish on land would be if she were tossed back into the river, surely.

The dance progressed as it had been- bold hands, whispered compliments, brushes of lips on skin, none-too-subtle dips, brushing legs… All to establish the story of the dance, the melody, the base colors. All the while Nevyne smiled and laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Mmm, my, my, Embry dearest; you’re quite an expert on your feet.” She leaned in next to her, lips brushing with every next word. “I may have to visit your dreams more often, hm? I wonder if you’re as skilled with your hands as you are at dance, ahuhuhu~”

She kissed Embry on the ear once more, but this time her breath was more than warm; to Embry, it would feel as though it was crawling pleasantly along to her brain, where it would caress it gently. It would be a foreign, but not unpleasant, feeling. Nevyne was no goddess of seduction or sex, but she had picked up many tricks in her time experimenting with the mortal mind. The subtle feeling would fade after a few moments, and Nevyne gave Embry a sultry wink.

The song would be ending in the coming minutes, and so Nevyne decided it was time to stop playing around. Instead of dipping Embry down, Nevyne leaned backwards; far, far backwards. To an outsider, it would look as the Embry was lowering her dance partner, as if she was the one in control, and as if Nevyne was more limber than water (which, as Embry found out, was true). But Nevyne was the one pulling Embry over her. There were several improbable parts of this display; the first was that Nevyne’s hat remained secured to her head, even as she was bent so far back that the large feather brushed the floor. The other was that she was doing this on one leg; the other was bent at the knee and wedged firmly between Embry’s thighs in a display that could not possibly be less subtle. Even then, she rocked her thigh back and forth against the mortal.

Then, perhaps to Embry’s relief, or surprise… Nevyne let go of her hands. She put her arms up in the air with an elegant turn of her hands. It was clear she did not need help to maintain this elegant, impossible display of balance and dexterity. There were murmurs of approval and light applause growing around them. She laughed to herself. Had dear Embry expected to be putting on a show during this waltz-turned-tango? Most likely not, and Nevyne could not wait to see her face when she realized that nearby people had been watching their little one on one. At least it wasn’t the entire ballroom, hm?

Unless the woman ran off, Nevyne would slowly fold upwards to a proper stance with the woman once more and replace her hands on the woman (though her leg would linger until the next steps of the dance).

W O R D S
639

M U S I C
xxx

T A G
Kupiec | Embry Delacroix

N O T E S
Try not to melt all over my nice dress