Silver dollar, golden flame
Dirty water, poison rain
Perfect murder, take your aim
Dirty water, poison rain
Perfect murder, take your aim
It takes her a little longer than Vesper to come down from her orgasmic high, the fractals of her mind finding it difficult to reclaim the controls on her limbs. She feels like she's floating and falling all at once, drifting slowly down from the mind-numbing ecstasy that makes her thoughts as slippery as soap suds in a diverting river.
Luckily, all rivers lead somewhere, and after another moment of listless existence, Thal finally manages to take a deep, reorienting breath that brings the boiling heat of pleasure down to a manageable simmer. The shuddering of her body slows to a tremble, her breaths still shallow but coming easier to give her enough clarity to notice the way she's suddenly falling again - falling forward, more into Vesper's arms.
Her body momentarily stiffens at the movement, ready to push him away through the haze of her solidifying thoughts. Cuddling after sex feels like something for romantics and four-letter words that make her want to laugh and gag at the same time - yet something stops her. Call it euphoric exhaustion, call it temporary weakness, call it the lingering complexity of emotions in her chest, but she thinks she deserves a moment of quiet reprieve after such a spectacular display. And what could be the harm in indulging for a moment? So, without as much conscious effort as she expects, she melts into his tight hold, no signs of sharp edges or fangs among the supple curves that mold to him, fitting perfectly. Her head feels thick and heavy, and she rests it against his chest, her hair spilling over his freckled constellations.
The lazy movements of his fingers calm the tiny tremors that still traverse her body, somehow soothing the abrasive pain of oversensitivity that threatens to make the touch uncomfortable. A small piece of her subconscious is aware of the contrasting bruises she'll probably see tomorrow, the aches she may feel in random crevices, but she can't find a reason to care right now, if anything, she almost smiles at the idea. Almost. It's hard to do when her eyes flutter between hooded and closed, expression limp with surprising contentment. She unconsciously draws circles through Vesper's hair, twisting the strands gently around her fingers as a low hum starts in her chest.
Luckily, all rivers lead somewhere, and after another moment of listless existence, Thal finally manages to take a deep, reorienting breath that brings the boiling heat of pleasure down to a manageable simmer. The shuddering of her body slows to a tremble, her breaths still shallow but coming easier to give her enough clarity to notice the way she's suddenly falling again - falling forward, more into Vesper's arms.
Her body momentarily stiffens at the movement, ready to push him away through the haze of her solidifying thoughts. Cuddling after sex feels like something for romantics and four-letter words that make her want to laugh and gag at the same time - yet something stops her. Call it euphoric exhaustion, call it temporary weakness, call it the lingering complexity of emotions in her chest, but she thinks she deserves a moment of quiet reprieve after such a spectacular display. And what could be the harm in indulging for a moment? So, without as much conscious effort as she expects, she melts into his tight hold, no signs of sharp edges or fangs among the supple curves that mold to him, fitting perfectly. Her head feels thick and heavy, and she rests it against his chest, her hair spilling over his freckled constellations.
The lazy movements of his fingers calm the tiny tremors that still traverse her body, somehow soothing the abrasive pain of oversensitivity that threatens to make the touch uncomfortable. A small piece of her subconscious is aware of the contrasting bruises she'll probably see tomorrow, the aches she may feel in random crevices, but she can't find a reason to care right now, if anything, she almost smiles at the idea. Almost. It's hard to do when her eyes flutter between hooded and closed, expression limp with surprising contentment. She unconsciously draws circles through Vesper's hair, twisting the strands gently around her fingers as a low hum starts in her chest.
I don't belong to anyone,
but everybody knows my name
but everybody knows my name
Thalassa
