The answer comes not in words but in sensation—a ripple through the air, thick as honey and warm as a lover’s breath against flushed skin. Frey’s presence slips between them like smoke, curling, coaxing, deepening. The world tilts, the line between them dissolving, pleasure no longer confined to one body but stretching, unfurling, sharing.
Jack will feel it then—not just the way Flora clenches around him, but the way the pleasure flares in her, the way it unfurls like a sunrise spilling over dark waters, the way it claims her from the inside out; an implosion rather than the more familiar feeling of expulsion that he might be used to.
Should Jack try and pry into Frey's mind he'll find nothing but soft edges and kaleidoscopic fragments that reflect his pleasure and his ego back onto him.
Jack will feel it then—not just the way Flora clenches around him, but the way the pleasure flares in her, the way it unfurls like a sunrise spilling over dark waters, the way it claims her from the inside out; an implosion rather than the more familiar feeling of expulsion that he might be used to.
Should Jack try and pry into Frey's mind he'll find nothing but soft edges and kaleidoscopic fragments that reflect his pleasure and his ego back onto him.
