we write out the ends on our palms, then forget to read
Flora hums, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile against the curve of Danta’s neck. "IIn a place like this of course I wouldn't do anything I don't find fun" she purrs, punctuating the words with a particularly sharp snap of her hips. "But I do rather enjoy seeing you like this." Not least of all because of the way he'd promptly rejected her flirtatious advances years prior when they'd first met. Our girl holds a grudge, what can I say?
Her grip on Danta's wrists remains firm, a silent reminder of the control she’s claimed over him, though her other hand tightens around his cock, stroking him in perfect rhythm with her thrusts. It’s tricky, the angle forcing her to keep her balance as she moves, but she’s nothing if not determined. The challenge only makes her more eager, more relentless, her strokes firm and fast, rolling over him with the same teasing precision she’d want for herself.
Her breath comes quicker, hotter, as he makes his request a fresh plume of heat rises up from her core. "Not too much trouble at all, babe." And gods, she means it. Because even if she can’t feel this the way he can, she can feel the way he shudders under her, the way his moans break into breathless gasps, the way he tenses when she flicks her wrist just so.
"You look so fucking good like this," she croons, her gaze locked onto the mirror, drinking in the sight of him writhing beneath her, all flushed skin and heaving breaths, his muscles flexing and trembling as she works him over. "So good of you, letting me use you however I want."
Her hips snap forward again, her strokes quickening in tandem, fingers tightening around him. "Come on, Danta," she murmurs, her voice honey-sweet but wicked, coaxing, demanding. "Let me feel you fall apart for me."
Her grip on Danta's wrists remains firm, a silent reminder of the control she’s claimed over him, though her other hand tightens around his cock, stroking him in perfect rhythm with her thrusts. It’s tricky, the angle forcing her to keep her balance as she moves, but she’s nothing if not determined. The challenge only makes her more eager, more relentless, her strokes firm and fast, rolling over him with the same teasing precision she’d want for herself.
Her breath comes quicker, hotter, as he makes his request a fresh plume of heat rises up from her core. "Not too much trouble at all, babe." And gods, she means it. Because even if she can’t feel this the way he can, she can feel the way he shudders under her, the way his moans break into breathless gasps, the way he tenses when she flicks her wrist just so.
"You look so fucking good like this," she croons, her gaze locked onto the mirror, drinking in the sight of him writhing beneath her, all flushed skin and heaving breaths, his muscles flexing and trembling as she works him over. "So good of you, letting me use you however I want."
Her hips snap forward again, her strokes quickening in tandem, fingers tightening around him. "Come on, Danta," she murmurs, her voice honey-sweet but wicked, coaxing, demanding. "Let me feel you fall apart for me."
