Maeve
Long fingers slip into dark curls, cupping the back of her head gently as he guides her into the kiss with the intention of keeping her close. His other hand finds her side, trailing over the snake that covers her ribs, carefully tracing across her skin as to not fracture her further. Maeve sighs softly against his lips, breaking the kiss to ask her question because she can't resist the temptation. He lies for her. He tells her that he will and she knows that at first he probably will. When he's still alone and Nate isn't back. After that? Maybe not. Their time together will just be a distant memory. Something he looks back on every now and again. Perhaps he'll still be grateful for what she did, but he won't need her like that anymore.
She can accept that. Really she can. They'll still be friends and whatever this pull is between them will fade when they aren't feeding it. At least, that's what she's telling herself. Otherwise she won't be able to let it go.
His hips press up into her hand even as she stops stroking, continuing to take his pleasure from her. A small smile curls on her lips and she hums in the back of her throat at the sound of his moan, "Of course I'll miss you, beastie. Tu auras toujours une place dans mon cœur." It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to become something she was attached to, but he did and she can't call it love because that would make it too real, but it's something. Something more than a distraction and a good time, but Maeve was helpless to stop it from the beginning. It was cruel to ever think she could. She tried though. Tried for him. Look where that got her. She was never going to be his choice. She wasn't anyone's choice, really. That's just how things were.
Maeve presses closer to him, shifting to steady him as she lines him up with her center before slowly sinking onto him. The stretch makes her shiver, a groan pushing past her lips as she struggles to keep her eyes open. She wants to look at him. This might be her last time she has him. Maeve wants to make it count.
She can accept that. Really she can. They'll still be friends and whatever this pull is between them will fade when they aren't feeding it. At least, that's what she's telling herself. Otherwise she won't be able to let it go.
His hips press up into her hand even as she stops stroking, continuing to take his pleasure from her. A small smile curls on her lips and she hums in the back of her throat at the sound of his moan, "Of course I'll miss you, beastie. Tu auras toujours une place dans mon cœur." It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to become something she was attached to, but he did and she can't call it love because that would make it too real, but it's something. Something more than a distraction and a good time, but Maeve was helpless to stop it from the beginning. It was cruel to ever think she could. She tried though. Tried for him. Look where that got her. She was never going to be his choice. She wasn't anyone's choice, really. That's just how things were.
Maeve presses closer to him, shifting to steady him as she lines him up with her center before slowly sinking onto him. The stretch makes her shiver, a groan pushing past her lips as she struggles to keep her eyes open. She wants to look at him. This might be her last time she has him. Maeve wants to make it count.
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips
We should just kiss like real people do
We should just kiss like real people do
