Isla
Gods, but Sunjata is beautiful like this, flushed and undone and breathless with pleasure, real and tangible in a way that Isla can practically taste. Riding him hard and feeling the swell of her climax begin to stretch up the back of her thighs, this time it's the Remedy who is lost for words, though the guttural thrum of her name on his lips is something she won't forget in a hurry.
Every buck and roll of her hips urges her closer to the point of no return, and although the urge to bare Sunjata's throat is palpable enough to make her teeth itch, she resists if only to keep a firm grip on spiralling horns; a grip that increases just a few seconds later.
Pitched forward against him with the force of her orgasm, Isla's mind whites out to nothing more than waves of pleasure, a cage of leathery wings and the siren song of the Flood's name spilling from her lips. Tightening around him and feeling as though she can chase further ecstasy if only she tries, the rhythm of her hips grows more urgent if anything, as if to drag him across that threshold as well.
Every buck and roll of her hips urges her closer to the point of no return, and although the urge to bare Sunjata's throat is palpable enough to make her teeth itch, she resists if only to keep a firm grip on spiralling horns; a grip that increases just a few seconds later.
Pitched forward against him with the force of her orgasm, Isla's mind whites out to nothing more than waves of pleasure, a cage of leathery wings and the siren song of the Flood's name spilling from her lips. Tightening around him and feeling as though she can chase further ecstasy if only she tries, the rhythm of her hips grows more urgent if anything, as if to drag him across that threshold as well.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
