with the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

Charlie is wildly delighted that despite the way her tail had been teasing him toward a very different sin, Pann clearly has other plans. Oh, she’s more than willing to follow where he leads, especially when it involves being lifted higher, pressed back against the cool rock. The scrape of stone against her bare skin draws a shiver that dances the length of her spine, sharpening the heat pooling low in her belly. Her thighs slide from bracketing his torso to draping over his shoulders, the new position baring her completely to his mouth.

With a pulse of disintegration, the wall behind her crumbles just enough for her fingers to carve into, creating shallow holds. She grips them easily, taking some of the weight from his arms; not that he seems to mind holding her, but she’s never been one to allow there to be unnecessary barriers to worship.

The first drag of his tongue against her rips a gasp from her lips, raw and unpolished, her head tipping back against the stone. The sensation blooms like molten sugar—sweet and hot—curling low and deep, spreading through her in waves that make her toes curl against his back. Every time his tongue circles her clit, the pulse of arousal spikes through her like lightning in a summer storm, sharp and perfect. Her tail, wrapped snug around the base of his cock, tightens in rhythm to the strokes he gives her, as if to return every flick of pleasure he sends.

"You clever boy," she mewls, the praise curling from her lips like smoke. Heat unfurls down her torso, sparks catching at her nipples in tiny bursts of fire before racing lower, scattering over her thighs before licking playfully across his shoulders. The pleasure builds fast and thick, her body arching into his mouth, chasing every lap of his tongue with shameless greed. It’s not just the skill, it’s the way he drinks her in, each movement deliberate, coaxing every tremor, every sharp little cry, until her grip on the wall feels carved as deep as the want flooding her veins.

.

Pann

catch me barking up a tree, smile wide as money green

I keep at her like a man possessed—because I am. My tongue works in slow, deliberate patterns, now and then dipping deep into her, savoring the molten pulse of her heat. Her taste is intoxicating, dark and sweet, and I can’t help the low chuckle that hums against her when her praise curls into my ears. Clever, yes—but no less caught in her snare than she is in mine.

Every movement of my mouth is precise, crafted to drive her higher, to keep her straining toward that crest without quite letting her fall over it. I drink in the way her body responds, the way her thighs tense against my shoulders, the way her toes curl and her back arches, the way the stone behind her seems to echo with the little sounds she can’t hold back.

And then—her tail tightens around my cock again, the pressure coiling and pulsing with maddening precision with every movement I make. I moan into her, the vibration spilling into her flesh as my own body throbs with the ache she’s feeding. My fingers bite into her hips, anchoring her to me, hard enough that the marks will linger like prayers written in flesh.

Gods, I want her—every inch of her, every sound she makes—but I won’t take. Not yet. Not until my offerings have been received in full. Not until she’s wrung every ounce of worship from me she could ever want.

you should mind your business, but my business is the place to be

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

Charlie can feel it building from the edges inward, like molten gold creeping up her calves until every nerve is singing. Gods, being locked in stone clearly hadn’t dulled Pann’s tongue; if anything, it felt sharpened, refined, honed for the sole purpose of coaxing this exact reaction out of her. The rough scrape of the rock at her back only makes the heat sharper, more consuming, and she releases one of the divots she’d burned into the wall to curl her fingers into his hair. Fire spills down over her knuckles, wrapping him in the same searing encouragement her voice pours into the air.

"Don’t you dare stop," she gasps, the words tumbling out between moans of his name, heels digging hard into his back to pull him closer. Her tail pulses tight around his cock with every shiver of pleasure, the pressure mirroring the rhythm of his tongue until it’s impossible to tell where one ache ends and the other begins. Every stroke drives her higher, until the pressure in her belly is so tight it’s almost painful, like she’s stretched across a wire that’s about to snap.

Her grip in his hair tightens, tugging him hard enough that if he needed to breathe, he should have thought about it before. The crest crashes into her all at once—hot, violent, and unstoppable. She cums with a cry that rings off the stone walls, her voice braiding his name with Dygra’s in shameless devotion, the sound carrying in wild, echoing waves until every last tremor runs its course.

.

Pann

catch me barking up a tree, smile wide as money green

When her order slips past her lips, I answer not with words but with more pressure—tongue working harder, deeper, an amused hum vibrating against her heat. I take everything she gives me, greedy as any worshipper at the altar of his goddess, caring nothing for breath or time, only for the ecstasy of pushing her higher, higher still, until she forgets how to come back down. I lap her through it, steady and relentless, until I can feel her thighs quake against my shoulders and the tremors tell me she’s been utterly undone.

Only then do I draw back, pulling in deep lungfuls of air with a wicked grin plastered across my face. Carefully, reverently, I ease her down, mindful of the stone at her back, lowering her inch by inch until the heat she’s been stroking around me is brought to bear. Where her tail coils, pulsing around my cock, aching as I am, I nudge against her slick entrance with the head, the promise of more hanging heavy between us.

I claim her mouth again, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips, tongues sliding in fervent communion. My tufted tail winds down her side with a teasing, almost ticklish sweep—equal parts mischief and reverence—just enough to remind her of my dual nature.

When I pull back, it’s only the width of a breath, my lips still brushing hers as I murmur, voice rough silk:

“Let me worship you, priestess, let me undo you over and over… and perhaps next time, you’ll return the favor.” I bring an arm around one of her legs, calves still resting on my shoulders, her body curved just right for my thumb to press on her clit in slow circles.

you should mind your business, but my business is the place to be

when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

Her whole body sings beneath his touch, pliant and eager, the faintest tremor of a shiver sparking into fire that ripples outward across her skin like heat shimmering over water. Her tail coils sly and sure, guiding the head of his cock into the wetness he’s already coaxed from her, teasing at her entrance until her entire frame arches with the ache of it. A moan tears loose, ringing against stone, echoing through the cavern like a hymn no priestess would ever pretend to be ashamed of.

Her nipples harden against the cool air, against the scrape of his chest, and the fanged grin she flashes is nothing short of feral joy. She twists her wrist backward with a sharp little flick, stone crumbling away behind her until a shallow alcove blooms in the wall—perfect for him to brace her against should his hands want to wander, to roam, to claim. And gods, she wants them to.

Small as she is, his hold over her feels absolute, her body curved to the shape of his control. She tilts her head back, curls spilling, eyes bright with lust as her tail slithers higher, wrapping tight around his thigh to urge him inside. Her hips roll shamelessly, grinding up against his cock and the teasing circles of his thumb on her clit, chasing every delicious spark he fans into flame.

Heat blooms across her chest, streaking to her throat, her cheeks flushed pink beneath the crown of her horns. Her voice pours out low and velvet, tangled with breathless laughter: "There’s a room in the Temple..." she gasps, dragging his gaze back to hers with a pull of her nails through his curls. "One that will let me worship you back. For as long as you can take it." Her purr deepens into a promise as she presses herself harder against him, fire curling down her belly and spilling across his shoulders like a mantle of living flame.

.