flora
Though Flora doesn't struggle against Jack's grip by any means, she does press against it if only to see just how tightly her wrist was pinned against the desk. Moaning, her fingertips scratch across his back before finding the channel of his spine and riding it all the way up towards his neck before plunging into his hair. Wrapping her ankles around one another to fix him against her, Flora lets herself submerge into the decadent blues and opalescent reds of her thoughts rather than concocting tableaus for them both to enjoy. Certainly there were times when images of thrusting cocks, curled toes, and the magnified sound of skin on skin was precisely the salacious sort of imagery the Doubletake needed to get off, and other times when reality was simply too good to ignore.
Sinking into the here and now in order to better be drowned by it, Flora thought only of Jack. Of the sleepy way he'd opened his door to nothing but midnight air before beckoning her in, of the way his hands found and fit around her curves even without being able to see her, of the tearing of lace and the colour of his eyes as he'd thrust himself inside of her. "I want you," Flora moans against his mouth, her own kisses unyielding beneath his lips as her fingernails scratched against his scalp. "Fuck do I--"
As he repositions her, the words are abruptly cut off. Flora's teeth snap closed around a shaky moan as one hand descends between her thighs. "Gods, Jack." Said as if in awe, and honestly part of her was. How the sex could continue to be so good, mind reading aside, Flora didn't know, but just now she couldn't have cared about anything less as prismatic bursts of pleasure began nipping at her heels. "Gods make me cum again," She moaned, not caring at all about the pleading tone of her voice as she gazed up at him.
Sinking into the here and now in order to better be drowned by it, Flora thought only of Jack. Of the sleepy way he'd opened his door to nothing but midnight air before beckoning her in, of the way his hands found and fit around her curves even without being able to see her, of the tearing of lace and the colour of his eyes as he'd thrust himself inside of her. "I want you," Flora moans against his mouth, her own kisses unyielding beneath his lips as her fingernails scratched against his scalp. "Fuck do I--"
As he repositions her, the words are abruptly cut off. Flora's teeth snap closed around a shaky moan as one hand descends between her thighs. "Gods, Jack." Said as if in awe, and honestly part of her was. How the sex could continue to be so good, mind reading aside, Flora didn't know, but just now she couldn't have cared about anything less as prismatic bursts of pleasure began nipping at her heels. "Gods make me cum again," She moaned, not caring at all about the pleading tone of her voice as she gazed up at him.
We can't make any promises now can we babe?
But you can make me a drink.
But you can make me a drink.
