I'm just a cherub riding comets through the night sky
Vesper doesn’t stop. Doesn’t chase some imagined next step like so many others might. She says don’t stop, and he doesn’t—because her body, her thoughts, her breathless little breaking point tells him exactly what she needs, and he answers it with merciless precision. Every flick of his tongue, every drag of shadow across her breast, every hitch of breath is measured against the current of her mind, the chorus of her unravelling.
And gods, it wrecks him too.
Not because she’s beautiful like this (though she is, sharp and trembling and divine), but because her pleasure doesn’t stay hers. Not with him in her head. It slams into him like a tide, a starburst of heat and desperation that leaves his own lungs seizing as if he’s the one caught in the undertow. There’s no distance to hide behind, no breath to catch that doesn’t taste like her. He rides it out with her, chest tight, jaw clenched, the ache of her release echoing in every nerve like she’s dragging him right back down with her.
Only when the tension in her flares one final time—oversensitive, twitching, lightning-close to a gasp—does he ease off. He kisses her thigh, slow and warm, the way someone might kiss the inside of a wrist before laying it bare. Then he slides up over her, shadows peeling back like a tide gone out, licking salt from his lips.
He collapses beside her without fanfare, his body still buzzing like he’s half-electric. One arm reaches lazily over her waist, and his voice comes hoarse from his throat, still raw with the way she’d set him alight. "Gods, Colt," he breathes, half in awe, half in satisfied ruin.
And gods, it wrecks him too.
Not because she’s beautiful like this (though she is, sharp and trembling and divine), but because her pleasure doesn’t stay hers. Not with him in her head. It slams into him like a tide, a starburst of heat and desperation that leaves his own lungs seizing as if he’s the one caught in the undertow. There’s no distance to hide behind, no breath to catch that doesn’t taste like her. He rides it out with her, chest tight, jaw clenched, the ache of her release echoing in every nerve like she’s dragging him right back down with her.
Only when the tension in her flares one final time—oversensitive, twitching, lightning-close to a gasp—does he ease off. He kisses her thigh, slow and warm, the way someone might kiss the inside of a wrist before laying it bare. Then he slides up over her, shadows peeling back like a tide gone out, licking salt from his lips.
He collapses beside her without fanfare, his body still buzzing like he’s half-electric. One arm reaches lazily over her waist, and his voice comes hoarse from his throat, still raw with the way she’d set him alight. "Gods, Colt," he breathes, half in awe, half in satisfied ruin.
VESPER
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
