DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Animalistic in every sense of the word, especially with his Attuned portions, the primal dissipations were readily apprised within moments. He was usually not so quick on the draw, far more prone to let them linger in those fastidious ties, waiting to unwind her multiple times before giving a thought to his own. But Evie’s insistence earned her little more than a sentimental eyeroll, changing the optics again for the space and chase together; he supposed, somewhere in the back of his mind, that there would be more time elsewhere to remedy more fervency. Especially with things like repose, hovering and harboring, rather than the bow of defeat, failure, or war framing his shoulders.
The moment she drew him down though he was suitably lost, entangled, swallowing and consuming her moans, sharing his groans, the grumbles, the extension of their ardor, lips dragging over hers, sliding down her neck. He only acclimated to another angle when her leg hooked around his hip, closing gaps and notching snares, a trap he’d willingly placed them within. Keeping his fingers close to her thighs, brushing, stroking, amplifying the senses, he gradually guided his cock into her core, a purposefully, slow draw, to fill, to pervade, suffuse.
The moment she drew him down though he was suitably lost, entangled, swallowing and consuming her moans, sharing his groans, the grumbles, the extension of their ardor, lips dragging over hers, sliding down her neck. He only acclimated to another angle when her leg hooked around his hip, closing gaps and notching snares, a trap he’d willingly placed them within. Keeping his fingers close to her thighs, brushing, stroking, amplifying the senses, he gradually guided his cock into her core, a purposefully, slow draw, to fill, to pervade, suffuse.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
