flora
Flora gasps as the corset slips from her shoulders, the sudden coolness of the room a stark contrast to the fevered heat of their hands and mouths. Her skin blooms with goosebumps, though whether from the temperature or the worshipful way Danta’s palms curve beneath her breasts, she doesn’t care to decipher. She’s caught—gorgeously, deliberately—between them, and if they were fire she’d let herself burn.
The kiss shared between them above her stokes something deeper than lust. She watches, breath held, as Danta claims Asta’s mouth with shameless hunger, and feels the tremor of arousal ripple through her as Asta responds in kind. Her legs tighten, breath catching in a shallow moan when Danta’s hips press forward.
Then he sinks, and Flora doesn’t even try to hide the way she watches him go—doesn’t mask the raw want in her eyes as Danta’s lips trail heat over her stomach, unfastening her shorts with maddening care. She shifts her weight, hips lifting to let him peel the denim away, baring her entirely save for the stilettos still strapped to her feet. Somewhere above, Asta murmurs, his voice a purr poured like honey into her ear.
Her head tips back against his shoulder, a breathless laugh escaping her at his words. "I doubt I'll disagree with you," she whispers, her voice ragged with want as she's momentarily pinned by need as Danta kneels before her like worship, like hunger, like it’s the only place he ever meant to be.
The flick of Asta’s thumbs across her nipples steals another moan from her, hips twitching toward Danta as her hands both reach blindly up into his hair. Gods but she wants them. Wants the ache behind her ribs to be exorcised by their mouths, their hands, the delicious weight of their bodies pressed against her own. Leaning back against the butcher, Flora slides her calf along Danta's shoulder as her head turns to find Asta's jaw with her lips, her teeth grazing over the pulse point there. She can see the blood on his lips and it gives her an idea. "If I could make it so you couldn't hurt me.." she whispers, before her words are carried away on a sharp inhale as the graze of one thumb over her nipple sends a current directly down between her legs. "..would you like that?"
The kiss shared between them above her stokes something deeper than lust. She watches, breath held, as Danta claims Asta’s mouth with shameless hunger, and feels the tremor of arousal ripple through her as Asta responds in kind. Her legs tighten, breath catching in a shallow moan when Danta’s hips press forward.
Then he sinks, and Flora doesn’t even try to hide the way she watches him go—doesn’t mask the raw want in her eyes as Danta’s lips trail heat over her stomach, unfastening her shorts with maddening care. She shifts her weight, hips lifting to let him peel the denim away, baring her entirely save for the stilettos still strapped to her feet. Somewhere above, Asta murmurs, his voice a purr poured like honey into her ear.
Her head tips back against his shoulder, a breathless laugh escaping her at his words. "I doubt I'll disagree with you," she whispers, her voice ragged with want as she's momentarily pinned by need as Danta kneels before her like worship, like hunger, like it’s the only place he ever meant to be.
The flick of Asta’s thumbs across her nipples steals another moan from her, hips twitching toward Danta as her hands both reach blindly up into his hair. Gods but she wants them. Wants the ache behind her ribs to be exorcised by their mouths, their hands, the delicious weight of their bodies pressed against her own. Leaning back against the butcher, Flora slides her calf along Danta's shoulder as her head turns to find Asta's jaw with her lips, her teeth grazing over the pulse point there. She can see the blood on his lips and it gives her an idea. "If I could make it so you couldn't hurt me.." she whispers, before her words are carried away on a sharp inhale as the graze of one thumb over her nipple sends a current directly down between her legs. "..would you like that?"
We can't make any promises now can we babe?
But you can make me a drink.
But you can make me a drink.
