OOM: Upstairs.

[yosafbridge]

The room, for the most part, is nearly identical to when he had seen it last: dimly lit, decorated in deep, lush colors - mostly purples and reds, several soft and comfortable chairs in which to sit, recline, doze or potentially participate in activities that are not entirely restful. She's done a little shopping since then, purchased some new works of art and pieces to decorate here and there and eventually sell to someone else later on when she tires of them.

The bed is relatively new too, four-poster with sheer curtains and a mattress that feels like you could be sleeping on a cloud if you close your eyes.

It's familiar to him, even if he doesn't remember it yet. She's hoping tonight will jog his memories and bring them back by a means most enjoyable.

Comments

[scots_wolf]

He smiles, takes her by her elbows, and steers her towards the bed.

[yosafbridge]

She goes without any resistance, slipping away from him and darting behind one of the sheer curtains that drapes over the side of the bed, peering at him through the cloth.

Behind it, she slips out of her dress, leaving herself bare for him.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart opens his trousers and steps out of them, to be all ready for her.

Actually, he is.

[yosafbridge]

She lounges back on the bed, propping herself up on her hands, watching him closely. No move goes unnoticed.

Briefly, she wonders how much more intense this would be for him if he manages to regain his memory during the act itself - and then smirks slightly. Even she's likely not that good.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart kneels on the bed, looking at her, feeling his desire rise.

Then, he bends over to kiss the tip of her breasts, one after the other.

[yosafbridge]

She draws him close in a manner similar to the way she'd done it downstairs in the bar, arms and legs sliding around him.

She can feel his hair brushing over her skin as he bends low to kiss her breasts in turn, and her arms give way until she's finally resting on her back against the purple sheets, red hair fanned out around her head, with him bent over her.

[scots_wolf]

He is kneeling beside her, then bends over her to kiss her.

His hair falls around them both, closing them in as in the branches of a weeping willow.

[yosafbridge]

She winds her arms around his neck, arching up to meet him halfway.

Her excitement grows by the mere minute, each second that passes by as his mouth moves against her own.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart trails his hand down her front, slowly, circling aimlessly, until it comes to rest between her legs.

[yosafbridge]

She chooses not to shift toward or away from his hand, but lets it linger there between her thighs without moving a muscle.

Her eyes watch him carefully.

[scots_wolf]

He kisses her again, and his fingers twitch, playfully.

[yosafbridge]

Her hips jerk as if tied to his fingers by an invisible string, and she laughs softly.

[scots_wolf]

He chuckles against her skin and delves deeper, more purposefully now.

[yosafbridge]

She arches against his hand with an audible gasp.

Her eyes never leave his face.

[scots_wolf]

"Saffron," he says, gently moving his hand. "What a very lovely name."

[yosafbridge]

Her hips move in time with the motion of his hand.

"Do you remember anything about it?"

[scots_wolf]

"I feel I should," Urquhart murmurs against her skin. "Like something that's falling off the tip of my tongue the moment I want to catch it. But perhaps I should put my tongue to a better use..."

[yosafbridge]

"Maybe there's something I can do to give it that final nudge in the right direction," she says softly.

Her own hands, currently unoccupied, take up a position on his shoulders and arms, gently caressing.

[scots_wolf]

"Depends on what direction you want it to go," Urquhart chuckled, slowly kissing his way downwards now.

He can't imagine that she cares about him so much she'd rather have him remember himself than pleasure her. No, he doesn't think she doesn't care. It literally doesn't enter his mind.

[yosafbridge]

"We'll have to see, won't we?" she says, his mouth eliciting a quiet gasp as he descends her body.

If pressed, outside the moment, she'd say that she doesn't care. Not at all. But here, in her bed, their limbs tangled and his lips skimming over her skin, it'd be hard for her to say she doesn't want him to remember things.

But she'll take what she can get.

[scots_wolf]

Her taste is familiar, and the way she gasps, too.

But he's been with very many women in his life, so he can't be certain it's her he remembers. While the woman as a whole is one of a kind (and he knows that, even if he doesn't know why), there are only that many ways a woman can taste, or gasp.

He sets to the task at hand, instead.

[yosafbridge]

Even if their roles were reversed, if she was the one who was having trouble remembering, the feel of his mouth and the sensations it creates in her mind be enough to bring her back within the first five seconds.

A stream of Mandarin leaves her lips and she arches her back, eyes squeezed shut.

"That's a very good direction, for starters."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart looks up at her, up her stomach and between her breasts, where he can see her throat and her chin.

He is about to say 'What language is that?' but instead finds himself saying, "You speak Chinese in your world -- yes, I remember that!"

[yosafbridge]

She looks down at him, eyes wide and comprehending, pupils wildly dilated.

"Yes," she murmurs encouragingly, both as a response to what he's doing to her and the arrival of that memory.

[scots_wolf]

He dips his head again and continues with what he's been doing.

He remembers a house with nobody in it except them, and a map. "A map of stars?" he murmurs, against her skin.