EVEREST
Releasing her jaw in order to clutch at her lower back and force her body against his, much as the aviator would like to keep Isla's lips against his he'll quickly run out of air if he tries. "How?" He moans as a breath lodges in the back of his throat and he gasps against her. How was he meant to be quiet when the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, a woman he loved and who loved him back, had just asked him to fuck her and then bound her legs around his back?
Pressing his forehead against her shoulder once more, his teeth clenched in an effort to keep quiet, the aviator was torn between obeying the Remedy's instruction and fucking her hard and fast enough to have things over with quickly. Neither seemed ideal, not when he longed to hear her moan his name or to have her begging for release, but even a touch wild with want for her, Everest was still a fairly obedient man at his core; even if said core was currently churning with a heat he was sure he couldn't sustain for long.
"—tell me...if.." He starts to say, meaning to tell her if he's too rough (which, Everest bby, you don't know what you're up against), before a dark plume of heat roars up from his core with such an overwhelming intensity that the aviator's grasp against the Remedy's back is suddenly born out of necessity rather than simple need.
Pressing his forehead against her shoulder once more, his teeth clenched in an effort to keep quiet, the aviator was torn between obeying the Remedy's instruction and fucking her hard and fast enough to have things over with quickly. Neither seemed ideal, not when he longed to hear her moan his name or to have her begging for release, but even a touch wild with want for her, Everest was still a fairly obedient man at his core; even if said core was currently churning with a heat he was sure he couldn't sustain for long.
"—tell me...if.." He starts to say, meaning to tell her if he's too rough (which, Everest bby, you don't know what you're up against), before a dark plume of heat roars up from his core with such an overwhelming intensity that the aviator's grasp against the Remedy's back is suddenly born out of necessity rather than simple need.
They say the odds are stacked against us, babe
We're a cactus waiting for our desert rain
We're a cactus waiting for our desert rain
