Isla
Isla had said she wanted it to feel like too much. Like she wanted it to feel so good that it hurt. And gods, does Remi deliver. Perhaps this wouldn't be the same for just about anyone, but for Isla? The alchemist chooses the perfect concoction of sensations to rile her up completely; the softness of feathers against her nipples compared to the pounding thrusts against her hips; the blanketing wings; the scruff of his unshaven cheek against her skin - all of it overwhelms in such a way as to leave her undone far before her orgasm comes to claim her.
And then his hand slips between her legs and she feels every muscle spasm and tighten against him. It's near impossible to achieve, but Isla tries anyway, to match the rhythm of her hips against Remi's to give at least a fraction back of what she's getting. It shouldn't be much of a surprise for him to hear her voice, ragged and breathless, ring out only a few moments after his warning. With sweat beading on her skin and a throat made raw by encouraging him on, Isla tries to press herself further against his fingers as if she might be able to get more of him that way.
"Remi, I'm gonna cum--"
And then his hand slips between her legs and she feels every muscle spasm and tighten against him. It's near impossible to achieve, but Isla tries anyway, to match the rhythm of her hips against Remi's to give at least a fraction back of what she's getting. It shouldn't be much of a surprise for him to hear her voice, ragged and breathless, ring out only a few moments after his warning. With sweat beading on her skin and a throat made raw by encouraging him on, Isla tries to press herself further against his fingers as if she might be able to get more of him that way.
"Remi, I'm gonna cum--"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
