* 31 * 7/16/12
Bishop lay, eyes unblinking, on the bed in his room, one arm draped over his torso. He was unsure what to think about what had happened in Lily's quarters a short while ago. It didn't help his processing capabilities that the alcohol had apparently hit him harder than he'd intended, which helped explain why he was far more enraged with Casavir than he even usually was.
He put his left hand up to his head and ran his fingers slowly through his short hair, feeling starved for tactile sensation. Lily had left him in an unfinished mood, and as he stared at the ceiling, the desire to yell at her for playing with him overcame him. But that twinkle in her eye had seemed so genuine, her expression complete stone on her face. How was he supposed to take that?
He remembered quite fondly how it had felt to pin her to her bed and hover above her shoulder, breathing onto her sweet, soft skin and taking in the womanly smell of her hair and skin. But with this reverie also came bitterness. She acted so uptight one minute and then was flatly encouraging him to take her the next. Was she actively trying to confuse him?
Bishop let that thought, along with its negative emotional associations, fade. In its place, he could feel her form beneath his again, and he smirked lecherously. He hadn't completely flattened her with his body, but he had left her little space to conceal the curve of her chest; it had pressed against his in the most enticing manner, and was a large part of the reason Bishop had had to release her so quickly, as if she spat poison.
He wouldn't have cared. In fact, he'd be very interested in intimately finding out whether she spat poison or not.
"Argh!" he shouted, throwing one of his stupid pillows against the wall in frustration at his own thoughts. Would he really have been able to take her right then and there, with no Tyr-obsessed paladin coming to interrupt him?
Bishop lingered on that idea, and automatically, his hand slowly, agonizingly slowly, made its way down his slim yet strong frame, passing over his stiff abs, and venturing lower. He unlatched his belt and pulled it from around his hips, casting it to the side and setting his hand back on the hardness that now pulsated in its place. Thinking little, he lifted his cloak and made just enough space to pull himself out through the top of his pants. His skin was hot to the touch; he could feel himself light on fire.
But then, he stopped.
No, he thought firmly. He wouldn't allow her to do this to him.
Despite this, he continued Lily and his brief but heated sexual encounter entirely in his head, musing over how unpredictable she had been. Perhaps she wasn't as stiff and upright as he had taken her for. This thought made the corners of his mouth curl upward.
If only you were here to join me now, elf, there would be no more ambiguity as to what I'd do to you.