we show off our different scarlet letters
Later, perhaps, Flora would ask if Asta could read her thoughts, such was the precision with which he stroked both her metaphorical and physical buttons with ease. The pain she feels from the clutch of his fingers or the drag of his nails is the sort she likes, the sort that makes her feel wanted, the sort that (problematically) almost makes her feel like an object to be fucked and used.
Covering one of his hands with hers, her fingers tighten over his own in a silent command of harder that he might tweak and tug at her nipple with more force. It has cords of white light streaking through her that spread out across her thighs before exploding in her core, and with every thrust of his hips against hers Flora can feel the tension begin to build anew, kindling quickly on the embers of the orgasm he'd already forced out of her.
"I want you to," the queen agrees in a small voice, but only because she's leaned against his hand at her throat. Flora did not go for daily runs, eat healthy, and exercise in her spare time in order for her body not to be appreciated, and she wasn't shy about it either. "This is how I thought about fucking you." Flora pants, her cheeks now the same colour as the blood smeared across her body even as tears of sweat streaked through the marks Asta had made. "I wanted you to see me, I wanted to make you cum." It was why, despite how she quite liked being fucked from behind, she'd opted to be on top. She wanted his pleasure to be because she'd got him there, not from the ache in his own hips but from hers.
Rolling her hips, Flora's moans took on a rough edge as her lips parted. "Tell me when you're close so that I can.." Well. He had said what he needed to get off, after all. Letting one of her hands fall between her legs, she began to circle her fingertip against her clit in rhythm with the movement of her body against his, her blue eyes hazy but focused unflinchingly down at him.
Covering one of his hands with hers, her fingers tighten over his own in a silent command of harder that he might tweak and tug at her nipple with more force. It has cords of white light streaking through her that spread out across her thighs before exploding in her core, and with every thrust of his hips against hers Flora can feel the tension begin to build anew, kindling quickly on the embers of the orgasm he'd already forced out of her.
"I want you to," the queen agrees in a small voice, but only because she's leaned against his hand at her throat. Flora did not go for daily runs, eat healthy, and exercise in her spare time in order for her body not to be appreciated, and she wasn't shy about it either. "This is how I thought about fucking you." Flora pants, her cheeks now the same colour as the blood smeared across her body even as tears of sweat streaked through the marks Asta had made. "I wanted you to see me, I wanted to make you cum." It was why, despite how she quite liked being fucked from behind, she'd opted to be on top. She wanted his pleasure to be because she'd got him there, not from the ache in his own hips but from hers.
Rolling her hips, Flora's moans took on a rough edge as her lips parted. "Tell me when you're close so that I can.." Well. He had said what he needed to get off, after all. Letting one of her hands fall between her legs, she began to circle her fingertip against her clit in rhythm with the movement of her body against his, her blue eyes hazy but focused unflinchingly down at him.
