we show off our different scarlet letters
"Just so," the queen purrs in response, flushing prettily at the way his accent wrapped around the syllables of her moniker as he emphasized it in a way seldom done.
Exhaling more sharply than she would have liked--if only for the sake of appearances--Flora's body utterly melts into the pressure of the butcher's fingers, her back arching away and then into the release of the undone strings of her bikini. That he wasn't Koa, whose desire of the queen had never been up for debate but whose boyish mistakes had yielded a rather complicated past between the two, nor Jack, who knew what Flora wanted better than anyone and yet never had wanted her in a way which was separate from what she could offer him, made Flora all the more susceptible to Asta's charms whether he meant them or not. So it was that as she moulded herself around him, she refused to entertain the idea that he didn't want her despite the way she'd have certainly expected to feel confirmation of that want by now.
Perhaps that's what explained what the queen did next: As Asta's mouth pressed against hers and his lips parted, Flora wrote the briefest prelude to an apology against his tongue before her own wandered against his sharpened teeth and pressed. It wasn't hard to draw blood, not against teeth as sharp as his were, and quickly beads of blood began to bloom on her tongue. Flexing it for a moment to encourage the flow of blood, the queen pressed her hands against his scars at the same time as she felt herself pulled down against him.
Moaning a small sound of encouragement, though it would require the sacrifice of his hands on her body, Flora slipped her fingers beneath the partially removed fabric of his shirt in the hopes he'd allow it to fall away, leaving her fingers more room to roam and grasp.
Exhaling more sharply than she would have liked--if only for the sake of appearances--Flora's body utterly melts into the pressure of the butcher's fingers, her back arching away and then into the release of the undone strings of her bikini. That he wasn't Koa, whose desire of the queen had never been up for debate but whose boyish mistakes had yielded a rather complicated past between the two, nor Jack, who knew what Flora wanted better than anyone and yet never had wanted her in a way which was separate from what she could offer him, made Flora all the more susceptible to Asta's charms whether he meant them or not. So it was that as she moulded herself around him, she refused to entertain the idea that he didn't want her despite the way she'd have certainly expected to feel confirmation of that want by now.
Perhaps that's what explained what the queen did next: As Asta's mouth pressed against hers and his lips parted, Flora wrote the briefest prelude to an apology against his tongue before her own wandered against his sharpened teeth and pressed. It wasn't hard to draw blood, not against teeth as sharp as his were, and quickly beads of blood began to bloom on her tongue. Flexing it for a moment to encourage the flow of blood, the queen pressed her hands against his scars at the same time as she felt herself pulled down against him.
Moaning a small sound of encouragement, though it would require the sacrifice of his hands on her body, Flora slipped her fingers beneath the partially removed fabric of his shirt in the hopes he'd allow it to fall away, leaving her fingers more room to roam and grasp.
