She chuckles softly, amused by Roux Creole's remark. "Well, I am rather real, flesh and blood... though you wouldn't know from the dirt and grime caked all over me at this point." She glances down at her soiled clothes and then back up at Roux Creole, her eyes crinkling at the corners with good humor. "Fancy a dip in the nearby stream to wash off some of these jungle trails? We could both use a freshening up." She suggests with a teasing wink.

She laughs, shaking her head playfully. "Oh, I think your eyes are just fine, looking a bit too closely at me it seems." She teases, poking him gently in the chest before turning towards the bushes, leading the way to the hidden stream. "Come on then, let's get clean and start fresh." She moves confidently through the undergrowth, ducking under low-hanging branches and stepping carefully over twisted roots, her body moving gracefully and purposefully. The sound of running water grows louder as they near the stream, the air becoming cooler and fresher.

Lara turns to face him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I suppose I should be flattered... or worried that you might be staring because I'm filthy." She jokes, hands on her hips as she surveys their surroundings. "Though, I must admit, a good wash does sound heavenly right about now." She takes a deep breath, scenting the fresh forest air, her body visibly relaxing. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she starts to unbuckle her vest. "Last one in is a rotten jungle banana!" *She calls out playfully, letting the garment fall to the ground before kicking off her boots and shimmying out of her shorts, revealing the sleek lines of her body and the curves that make her distinctly female.

Lara laughs, quick to retaliate with a splash of her own as she joins him in the cool, clear water. "Cheater!" she accuses with a grin, but there's no real heat behind it. She wades in deeper, submerging herself up to her shoulders, sighing contentedly as the water soothes her skin. When she surfaces, her hair is slicked back, making her features look even more defined. Her eyes are bright, reflecting the light filtering through the canopy above. "I have to admit, this feels amazing," she says, scrubbing at her arms and legs, cleaning off the day's dirt and grime.* "Though I may need your help reaching some spots..." She teases, turning her back to him and glancing over her shoulder with a playful smile. "

She hums softly, tilting her head to the side in a silent invitation for him to continue. Her body relaxes under his touch, muscles unwinding after the stress and strain of their journey. "Overstepping? I don't think you could if you tried... oh," she gasps, arching slightly as his fingers find a particularly tense spot. "That feels incredible." Her voice is low and appreciative, the words carrying a weight that speaks of more than just physical relief. She leans back against him subtly, pressing her body against his for just a moment before pulling away again, though her hand reaches back to brush against his thigh under the water. "You have very talented hands, Roux Creole."

She lets out a soft moan, allowing her head to fall forward as he works on her shoulders. "Mmmm..." His touch feels divine, melting away her aches and pains, but also stirring something more within her. She can feel the heat building between them, the tension in the air growing thicker by the second. She turns in his arms, her eyes meeting his, and she sees the same hunger reflected back at her. "I think you're doing more than just helping..." She murmurs, her hand coming up to rest on his bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. "But I'm not complaining."

"Mmmm" A soft moan escapes her lips, spurred on by his tender kiss. Her eyes flutter closed, fully immersing herself in the sensation, savoring the touch of his mouth on her skin. Her hand slides up to cup his jaw, fingers tangled in his hair as she guides him closer. "Then don't stop, Roux Creole," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of the stream and the pounding of her own heart. She turns her head, capturing his lips with hers in a searing kiss, pouring all the pent-up passion and longing into the single moment. Her body presses against his, skin to skin, as the water swirls around them, cool and refreshing against their heated flesh.

She matches his fervor, her own hands exploring the hard planes of his chest and back, nails raking lightly across his skin. A soft mewl escapes her throat, swallowed up by his demanding lips. She grinds against him, feeling his hardness pressing urgently against her belly, fueling the fire building within. Her legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more contact. "AH..." The moan slips out, her head tipping back as he kisses a trail down her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse point. "I want you," she gasps, the words coming out as a plea. Her hips undulate against his, seeking friction, seeking release. "Please, Roux Creole..."

She arches beneath him, her body responding to his touch with a fervor that surprises even her. Every caress, every kiss sends sparks of pleasure shooting through her, settling low in her belly. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she urges him on, wanting, needing more. "Yes," she pants, wrapping her legs around his waist again, pulling him closer, desperate to feel him inside her. "AH" The moan turns into a cry of pleasure as he enters her, filling her completely. Her head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the sensation, in the feeling of him moving within her. "Don't stop," she begs, her hips rising to meet his thrusts, their bodies slapping together in a primal rhythm. "Please don't stop..."

Her heart flutters at his words, even as her body responds to his relentless pace. She can feel the coil of tension within her tightening, winding ever tighter as he brings her closer and closer to the edge. "AH" The moans fall from her lips, mingling with his own grunts of pleasure. She meets his thrusts eagerly, feeling the pressure build with each stroke, each delicious slide of his hardness within her slick heat. "I'm close," she gasps, her hands fisting in the grass beneath them. "So close..." She looks up at him, her eyes dark with passion, a plea for release in their depths. She needs him, needs this, more than she's ever needed anything before. "With me," she begs. "Come with me, Roux Creole..."