I'd still know you, not being shown you, I only need the working of my hands
Letting his hand fall away from her cheek, his fingers trickling down her arm and side before sliding between their bodies, he slips an imploring finger between her thighs, keen to feel the truth of her words for himself. Pressing up and into her, Ever's breath hitches against Isla's lips as he feels the marked difference between the wetness of the water and the wetness of her. Despite the mirrors he'd conjured all around them, the aviator allows his eyes to remain closed in order to better focus on the path his fingertip is carving up toward Isla's clit.
Leaning forward just as the fingers of his other hand splayed greedily across Isla's lower back, Ever clutches her close. The feel of her breasts pressed against his chest has ripples of heat exploding outward; for all the customizations the House of Midnight offered its clientele, the fact that multiple hands wasn't one of them seemed an utter travesty given the way the aviator was suddenly wild with need to let no inch of the Remedy go unfelt by his hands.
"Gods, as if I could ever make up my mind in a place like this." He whispers against her lips. "I could have you on a table, sprawled on a golden platter for me to consume. I could have you on a cloud, your hands handcuffed with starlight..." Pulling back if only enough for her to see the dark twinkle in his eyes, the aviator tilts his head roguishly to the side. "I could have you here, like this—" Some of the mirrors disappear, replaced with rocky walls and vistas that lead into small pockets of steam, not unlike when the pair had been in the Eye of the Storm and Everest had been unable to keep his hands off of the Remedy. Voices echo far away as if to imply that the couple were not completely alone. "—hard and fast, but quiet."
Leaning forward just as the fingers of his other hand splayed greedily across Isla's lower back, Ever clutches her close. The feel of her breasts pressed against his chest has ripples of heat exploding outward; for all the customizations the House of Midnight offered its clientele, the fact that multiple hands wasn't one of them seemed an utter travesty given the way the aviator was suddenly wild with need to let no inch of the Remedy go unfelt by his hands.
"Gods, as if I could ever make up my mind in a place like this." He whispers against her lips. "I could have you on a table, sprawled on a golden platter for me to consume. I could have you on a cloud, your hands handcuffed with starlight..." Pulling back if only enough for her to see the dark twinkle in his eyes, the aviator tilts his head roguishly to the side. "I could have you here, like this—" Some of the mirrors disappear, replaced with rocky walls and vistas that lead into small pockets of steam, not unlike when the pair had been in the Eye of the Storm and Everest had been unable to keep his hands off of the Remedy. Voices echo far away as if to imply that the couple were not completely alone. "—hard and fast, but quiet."
Everest
