never be so kind you forget to be clever
Though Flora had tugged Jack away from her window earlier, for anyone passing below there'd be no mistaking who was in the queen's bedroom such was the way his name echoed over and over from his lips before all of the air had been stolen from her lungs.
As she fights to catch her breath, every unintentional movement between them sends ripples of static-y pleasure shivering over Flora's oversensitive nerves, against which her mind mewls soft I love yous over and over as if it might act as some sort of barricade between herself and the slow return of sensation. Wanting to linger in the resplendent nothingness that has her feeling utterly boneless beneath Jack, the queen moans under her breath, nosing into the captain's dark hair and wrapping her arms around him. Her mattress is such that his weight has sunk her down into it, and if Flora thought there was any way of ensuring she'd be able to breathe all through the night, she'd have begged Jack to stay just where he was until morning.
Despite her silent protests, sensation does return to her body, such that the queen is distantly aware of the ache in the muscles of her belly, the constellations of fingerprints blooming against her thigh, and the warmth of his breath against her chest. "Gods you're good." She chuckles into his hair, her words lazy and her thoughts entirely without form.
As she fights to catch her breath, every unintentional movement between them sends ripples of static-y pleasure shivering over Flora's oversensitive nerves, against which her mind mewls soft I love yous over and over as if it might act as some sort of barricade between herself and the slow return of sensation. Wanting to linger in the resplendent nothingness that has her feeling utterly boneless beneath Jack, the queen moans under her breath, nosing into the captain's dark hair and wrapping her arms around him. Her mattress is such that his weight has sunk her down into it, and if Flora thought there was any way of ensuring she'd be able to breathe all through the night, she'd have begged Jack to stay just where he was until morning.
Despite her silent protests, sensation does return to her body, such that the queen is distantly aware of the ache in the muscles of her belly, the constellations of fingerprints blooming against her thigh, and the warmth of his breath against her chest. "Gods you're good." She chuckles into his hair, her words lazy and her thoughts entirely without form.
