Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"Anything," she repeated, even as the gleam in his eyes tied her stomach into knots, anxious if only because of the unspoken promise it held. Like no amount of bracing could prepare her for what was to come. Getting tired of my own words
Long tresses of pale hair tickled the bare skin of her bback as Maea tipped her head back, making room for him at her throat. Wriggling to help the flimsy lace depart from her hips, she couldn't do anything about the flush rising in her cheeks; Liam's voice turned her spine to liquid, pliant and oh, so willing to accommodate his path down from a hitching throat, across the snow-white tundra of her belly... The sight of him poised between her legs, the soft rush of breath against tender skin, nearly undid her. The irony of how he reversed their positions didn't escape her; she disguised a tremor of nerves behind a rosy pout, playing at a disgruntlement she didn't feel at all. "I was supposed to do the tasting... but I guess, if that's really what you want..." Her shrug was a slow, intentional thing, deliberately exaggerating the swell of her breasts with a heavied sigh. Out of his reach, for now, as she leaned back on her hands; only her tail still touched him, sliding languidly up and down his torso... Waiting. Burning to find out what new heights of pleasure he would show her this time.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
