candlewax & polaroids on the hardwood floor
Fire flares in Flora's leg muscles with every rise and fall, though it has nothing to do with the way she forces her body to move and everything to do with the way each thrust of Jack's cock has the fire in her core burning brighter and hotter. Wanting Jack simply because she wanted him and not because his touch was the only thing able to chase away the ghosts lingering in the corners of her mind, Flora's thoughts were blissfully free of traumatic fragments and the muffled screams and curses of her parents, filled instead by sweeping waves of crimson that crashes upon golden shores.
Wishing desperately that Jack had more hands with which to touch her, as the queen straightened her spine and arched her back into the rise and fall of their bodies, she imagined his calloused fingers clasping at her ass, splaying across her lower back, squeezing her nipples or wrapping around her throat. She thought of his fingers in her mouth, curled around her hair, or gripping tightly enough around her thigh to leave marks. Fuck having a threesome, maybe for LongNight she'd drag him to the House of Midnight where he could have as many hands as she wanted him to and where the combination of their thoughts could paint the walls around them.
"Jack—" It started as it so often did, as an expanding screaming in the back of her throat, one which quickly ballooned down into her lungs, her belly, and then down her thighs until it brushed against the soles of her feet. The crashing waves quickly turned tidal as her hips began to roll against his rather than just rising and falling, the beat of her heart a thunderous and runaway thing inside of her chest that had her gasping for air.
Wishing desperately that Jack had more hands with which to touch her, as the queen straightened her spine and arched her back into the rise and fall of their bodies, she imagined his calloused fingers clasping at her ass, splaying across her lower back, squeezing her nipples or wrapping around her throat. She thought of his fingers in her mouth, curled around her hair, or gripping tightly enough around her thigh to leave marks. Fuck having a threesome, maybe for LongNight she'd drag him to the House of Midnight where he could have as many hands as she wanted him to and where the combination of their thoughts could paint the walls around them.
"Jack—" It started as it so often did, as an expanding screaming in the back of her throat, one which quickly ballooned down into her lungs, her belly, and then down her thighs until it brushed against the soles of her feet. The crashing waves quickly turned tidal as her hips began to roll against his rather than just rising and falling, the beat of her heart a thunderous and runaway thing inside of her chest that had her gasping for air.
