COLT
You put the cool in the breeze
You put the weak here in my knees
You put me right where I'm supposed to be
In your blue-eyed sea, and I wanna sail away
You put the weak here in my knees
You put me right where I'm supposed to be
In your blue-eyed sea, and I wanna sail away
He's relentless in his endeavor to unmake her. He's not even content when she breaks, he keeps going—like he means to pulverize every last thought and every lingering sense she’s ever had against the drag of his tongue, the cinch of his shadows, the dark grip he weaves into her hands. A second orgasm threatens to ride in behind the first as he continues to orchestrate pleasure like he means to dethrone Frey. It's only by some small mercy that she can speak, and that he listens, that she receives any reprieve. He leaves her a quivering mess of heat and need that withdraws into a steady beat between her thighs at the absence of him.
There’s nothing soft about the way she looks at him the instant he's bare, just a ravenous want that coils tight, making every other idea of hunger seem laughable in comparison to this. The back light cast by the candles frames every part of him in a warm glow that makes him appear almost holy. Well, he was heaven sent, but he's no angel, and thankfully so.
She reclaims him with each ring of her leg, an embrace that's potent with heat as it sinks around all the potential of him. The tilt he arranges for her hips with his magic is tantalizing, ever surprised by the depth of his devious mind when it comes to bending his shadows to his whims. The firm hold he sets to her hip earns an appreciative hum, thighs tightening against him like they can keep him there forever. The sound is cut short as he pushes inside, every scrap of air stolen, her chest caught in a sharp, tight flutter that drags its way all the way down to where he’s filling her. Her fingers curl instantly into his shoulders, nails biting hard against him as her head tips back into the blankets with a ragged gasp that almost sounds like a laugh, like she can’t believe he can feel like this.
His groan that catches on her mouth is one she can't meet with anything sensible, her own breath just a pant into the space between them, lost to every bit of friction he sets against her. "Gods, Vesper—" her voice catches on a moan as he rolls into her perfectly. "You feel so damn good," the words splinter, low and breathless, spilling out against his jaw as her body arches up into his, desperate to meet him thrust for thrust. Every sound she makes, every stutter of her hips, belongs to him now.
There’s nothing soft about the way she looks at him the instant he's bare, just a ravenous want that coils tight, making every other idea of hunger seem laughable in comparison to this. The back light cast by the candles frames every part of him in a warm glow that makes him appear almost holy. Well, he was heaven sent, but he's no angel, and thankfully so.
She reclaims him with each ring of her leg, an embrace that's potent with heat as it sinks around all the potential of him. The tilt he arranges for her hips with his magic is tantalizing, ever surprised by the depth of his devious mind when it comes to bending his shadows to his whims. The firm hold he sets to her hip earns an appreciative hum, thighs tightening against him like they can keep him there forever. The sound is cut short as he pushes inside, every scrap of air stolen, her chest caught in a sharp, tight flutter that drags its way all the way down to where he’s filling her. Her fingers curl instantly into his shoulders, nails biting hard against him as her head tips back into the blankets with a ragged gasp that almost sounds like a laugh, like she can’t believe he can feel like this.
His groan that catches on her mouth is one she can't meet with anything sensible, her own breath just a pant into the space between them, lost to every bit of friction he sets against her. "Gods, Vesper—" her voice catches on a moan as he rolls into her perfectly. "You feel so damn good," the words splinter, low and breathless, spilling out against his jaw as her body arches up into his, desperate to meet him thrust for thrust. Every sound she makes, every stutter of her hips, belongs to him now.
You knock me out kiss by kiss
I need you baby, sip by sip
Sit back and let me drink you in
I'm fallin' for you, over and over and over again
I need you baby, sip by sip
Sit back and let me drink you in
I'm fallin' for you, over and over and over again
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
