we show off our different scarlet letters
Feeling his hips rise, Flora tilts her head admonishingly to the side as she clucks under her tongue. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" The queen scolds; she doesn't mean it, though. If he laid there stiff (wink) as a board the entire time, she'd have hated him for his lack of desire. Still, this was a pairing of passion not romance, and so in place of long and loving kisses or moaned I love you's, Flora was content for there to be a certain amount of banter between them to keep the moments connected from start to finish.
And, speaking of..
Reaching for one of his hands, Flora would try and score the pad of his thumb against his own teeth so that droplets of blood would drip into his mouth just as she let her hips lower slowly. Waiting for a moment to feel the full girth of him, once she was sure she could, the queen let her hips fall all the way as she tipped her head back and moaned a long and low note of utter ecstasy. The first thrust was always the best; the one that filled, the one that ignited. Everything else was just a chain reaction from there, and gods if those other couples in the mists weren't sure what was going on in the back portion of the cavern, there'd be no mistaking it now.
"Fuck—" Flora moaned, forcing her head back and fitting her thighs tight against his body. Reaching for his hand, she'd press at the wound on his thumb in order to trace bloody hieroglyphics against her nipples and around her breasts. He'd bled himself earlier in order to lick it clean from her skin, and now that she was the one orchestrating, she saw no reason not to lay a trail for him to follow. Once he was allowed that was.
The effortless way Flora rose and fell very much suggested that, either she fucked like this daily, or there was some sort of exercise regime she did often in order to train precisely these muscle groups. Either way, even as beads of sweat trickled down her bronze skin, even as her muscles shivered with tension, her expression was one of youthful arousal rather than effort. "Touch me. I want to feel your hands all over me."
And, speaking of..
Reaching for one of his hands, Flora would try and score the pad of his thumb against his own teeth so that droplets of blood would drip into his mouth just as she let her hips lower slowly. Waiting for a moment to feel the full girth of him, once she was sure she could, the queen let her hips fall all the way as she tipped her head back and moaned a long and low note of utter ecstasy. The first thrust was always the best; the one that filled, the one that ignited. Everything else was just a chain reaction from there, and gods if those other couples in the mists weren't sure what was going on in the back portion of the cavern, there'd be no mistaking it now.
"Fuck—" Flora moaned, forcing her head back and fitting her thighs tight against his body. Reaching for his hand, she'd press at the wound on his thumb in order to trace bloody hieroglyphics against her nipples and around her breasts. He'd bled himself earlier in order to lick it clean from her skin, and now that she was the one orchestrating, she saw no reason not to lay a trail for him to follow. Once he was allowed that was.
The effortless way Flora rose and fell very much suggested that, either she fucked like this daily, or there was some sort of exercise regime she did often in order to train precisely these muscle groups. Either way, even as beads of sweat trickled down her bronze skin, even as her muscles shivered with tension, her expression was one of youthful arousal rather than effort. "Touch me. I want to feel your hands all over me."
