when I walk in a room, I can still make the whole place shimmer
Her whole body sings beneath his touch, pliant and eager, the faintest tremor of a shiver sparking into fire that ripples outward across her skin like heat shimmering over water. Her tail coils sly and sure, guiding the head of his cock into the wetness he’s already coaxed from her, teasing at her entrance until her entire frame arches with the ache of it. A moan tears loose, ringing against stone, echoing through the cavern like a hymn no priestess would ever pretend to be ashamed of.
Her nipples harden against the cool air, against the scrape of his chest, and the fanged grin she flashes is nothing short of feral joy. She twists her wrist backward with a sharp little flick, stone crumbling away behind her until a shallow alcove blooms in the wall—perfect for him to brace her against should his hands want to wander, to roam, to claim. And gods, she wants them to.
Small as she is, his hold over her feels absolute, her body curved to the shape of his control. She tilts her head back, curls spilling, eyes bright with lust as her tail slithers higher, wrapping tight around his thigh to urge him inside. Her hips roll shamelessly, grinding up against his cock and the teasing circles of his thumb on her clit, chasing every delicious spark he fans into flame.
Heat blooms across her chest, streaking to her throat, her cheeks flushed pink beneath the crown of her horns. Her voice pours out low and velvet, tangled with breathless laughter: "There’s a room in the Temple..." she gasps, dragging his gaze back to hers with a pull of her nails through his curls. "One that will let me worship you back. For as long as you can take it." Her purr deepens into a promise as she presses herself harder against him, fire curling down her belly and spilling across his shoulders like a mantle of living flame.
Her nipples harden against the cool air, against the scrape of his chest, and the fanged grin she flashes is nothing short of feral joy. She twists her wrist backward with a sharp little flick, stone crumbling away behind her until a shallow alcove blooms in the wall—perfect for him to brace her against should his hands want to wander, to roam, to claim. And gods, she wants them to.
Small as she is, his hold over her feels absolute, her body curved to the shape of his control. She tilts her head back, curls spilling, eyes bright with lust as her tail slithers higher, wrapping tight around his thigh to urge him inside. Her hips roll shamelessly, grinding up against his cock and the teasing circles of his thumb on her clit, chasing every delicious spark he fans into flame.
Heat blooms across her chest, streaking to her throat, her cheeks flushed pink beneath the crown of her horns. Her voice pours out low and velvet, tangled with breathless laughter: "There’s a room in the Temple..." she gasps, dragging his gaze back to hers with a pull of her nails through his curls. "One that will let me worship you back. For as long as you can take it." Her purr deepens into a promise as she presses herself harder against him, fire curling down her belly and spilling across his shoulders like a mantle of living flame.
.
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
