Flora
Flora hums a note of encouragement against the butcher's lips, just in case the way she lifted or pressed herself against him hadn't been obvious enough. The way his large hands are able to touch so much of her at once has heat flushing through her core and if she thought there was any point in it at all she'd have curled one of her legs high around the back of his thighs in order to encourage his fingertips to wander over more of her. But, he hadn't been lying back in the Climb when he said that blood finished things for him but also helped spark them. Still, it felt strange to feel the distinct lack of any tension in his lower half even if the way he kissed her and held her spoke of some sort of attraction.
Letting her fingertips dance up one of his horns, tracing the smooth facets and jutting edges knowing fully that were she to press against one of the tines she could draw blood as easily as she had from his teeth. Very nearly she does just that as he begins to walk her backwards if only out of surprise. Luckily it's her other hand which tightens around his neck, the one on his horn immediately dropping into his hair, as she's pressed against the cool glass of the mirror. Inhaling sharply, her slip pulled up and the peach-shaped imprint of her ass on the mirror, Flora has to stop herself from clenching her fingers into his hair to keep him from moving. Searching his gaze, the colours blurry because of how close he was to her, the queen gives her head a little shake as her lips part around his thumb. Her tongue whorls around it and while she sucks against his fingertip in a modest repeat of what she'd done to his neck, the gesture was meant to have him thinking of something else entirely.
"Just kiss me again," she whispers as her teeth grate lightly against the pad of his thumb. Perhaps they'd not be able to go as far as the characters in one of Mateo's romance novels would have, but worse stories had been written than the one featuring Torchline's queen with a silk slip tugged up around her hips in the arms of a handsome foreigner within the dressing room of an upscale boutique.
Letting her fingertips dance up one of his horns, tracing the smooth facets and jutting edges knowing fully that were she to press against one of the tines she could draw blood as easily as she had from his teeth. Very nearly she does just that as he begins to walk her backwards if only out of surprise. Luckily it's her other hand which tightens around his neck, the one on his horn immediately dropping into his hair, as she's pressed against the cool glass of the mirror. Inhaling sharply, her slip pulled up and the peach-shaped imprint of her ass on the mirror, Flora has to stop herself from clenching her fingers into his hair to keep him from moving. Searching his gaze, the colours blurry because of how close he was to her, the queen gives her head a little shake as her lips part around his thumb. Her tongue whorls around it and while she sucks against his fingertip in a modest repeat of what she'd done to his neck, the gesture was meant to have him thinking of something else entirely.
"Just kiss me again," she whispers as her teeth grate lightly against the pad of his thumb. Perhaps they'd not be able to go as far as the characters in one of Mateo's romance novels would have, but worse stories had been written than the one featuring Torchline's queen with a silk slip tugged up around her hips in the arms of a handsome foreigner within the dressing room of an upscale boutique.
Fatefully, I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Misery, Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep
Code stolen from Queen Sky
