Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
She did indeed say that. Twice. And his lips against the silken skin of her inner thigh erased any further pretense from her mind. The light touch sent sensation zapping along her nerves, like storms lived just beneath her skin and he was a lightning rod, capable of manipulating her currents. Again, and again, a steady procession of kisses and light caresses unsteadied her breath all over again. Maea watched him, mesmerised by the impossibility of what she was seeing, until the first pass of his tongue along her center dragged a low moan from her throat. The room swam in her vision, reeling off kilter; she was not a person anymore, just a flame dancing in tune to Liam's breath. Flaring up whenever he grazed her clit, subsiding at the slightest pause in the belief that he'd had enough - only to be proven wrong. Getting tired of my own words
A pale hand fumbled down to slide into his hair, kneading the curls as pleasure fogged her brain and erased all thought. "Liam – " she whimpered, pleading without really knowing what else he could possibly do to make this better; already she struggled to stay upright on the counter, her chest heaving faster with the cresting ecstasy. Not yet... she didn't want it to be over so soon, yet he was so skilled with his tongue, so insistent just where she was mist sensitive...
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
