Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
The sounds issuing from Liam's throat encouraged her to keep going, his expression all the reward she needed. She had no intent beyond pleasuring him, was not experienced enough to plan beyond the next impulse; just watched him, and listened, adjusting the pace with more luck than skill. That he responded so well to her amateurish ministrations was a blessing, sweetly stroking her ego into believing she couldn't be distracted from her intentions anymore. Getting tired of my own words
Then Liam's hands moved in her hair, dragging across the scalp to find the base of her horns, and it was like fireworks had been set off. A gasping whimper turned to a guttural groan as the sensation went on and on from the caress of his fingertips. Drowning in it, Maea was hardly aware of how she pressed her aching breasts against the soldier's leg, trembling with the restraint it took to not just grind her hips against him like an animal in heat. Sucking harder at his erection, faster and faster - helpless to hold back when he made her feel this good.
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
