we write out the ends on our palms, then forget to read
A shiver of satisfaction rolls through Flora at the sounds Danta makes, his struggles only fueling the heat curling low in her belly. She knows exactly what it’s like to be on the receiving end of such a challenge, knows the mix of pleasure and discomfort that comes with pushing one's limits, and seeing Danta like this—eyes wet, throat working around the thick length—sends a thrill through her even if she can't feel it the way she might want to.
But then his fingers slide between her thighs, and for a split second, surprise flickers across her face. She’d expected to be the one doing all the work, to be in control entirely, but Danta’s touch ignites a new kind of heat inside her. A breathless laugh spills from her lips, half amusement, half something far more primal, as she tilts her hips ever so slightly into his hand. "Danta," she murmurs, voice thick with arousal.
As he rises, she doesn't resist when his lips crash against hers, her body pressing flush against him, her strap-on grinding teasingly against his erection. "I could do rough against a wall," she muses between flicks of her tongue, her voice laced with mischief. "If you've got a stool to offer. Otherwise..." She lets the word hang, her grin widening as she trails her fingers down his chest, letting her nails drag lightly along the way. "The bed will do."
At his question, Flora grins. "Like I’m being watched," she purrs against his lips, biting down softly before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "I like teasing to the point of breaking, I like hearing my name moaned like a plea and like a threat." She liked hands on her throat and pain to a certain extent but having been spoiled by a telepath for so long, Flora wasn't sure she trusted anyone else to come close much less get it right.
But then his fingers slide between her thighs, and for a split second, surprise flickers across her face. She’d expected to be the one doing all the work, to be in control entirely, but Danta’s touch ignites a new kind of heat inside her. A breathless laugh spills from her lips, half amusement, half something far more primal, as she tilts her hips ever so slightly into his hand. "Danta," she murmurs, voice thick with arousal.
As he rises, she doesn't resist when his lips crash against hers, her body pressing flush against him, her strap-on grinding teasingly against his erection. "I could do rough against a wall," she muses between flicks of her tongue, her voice laced with mischief. "If you've got a stool to offer. Otherwise..." She lets the word hang, her grin widening as she trails her fingers down his chest, letting her nails drag lightly along the way. "The bed will do."
At his question, Flora grins. "Like I’m being watched," she purrs against his lips, biting down softly before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "I like teasing to the point of breaking, I like hearing my name moaned like a plea and like a threat." She liked hands on her throat and pain to a certain extent but having been spoiled by a telepath for so long, Flora wasn't sure she trusted anyone else to come close much less get it right.
