Flora
The pressure starts in her toes—a warning, a whisper of what’s coming—and it curls up through her calves, her thighs, each trembling muscle wound so tight she can barely breathe. His mouth is right there, maddeningly close but not quite, his words brushing against soaked skin instead of sinking back into where she needs him most. Looking down at him, breath ragged, cheeks flushed and body all but vibrating in his hold, Flora narrows her eyes in a way that’s more plea than threat. "If you stop again, I swaer to all the gods," she gasps; light-hearted, yes, but there’s a raw edge of desperation threaded through the humour. Her fingers in his hair say the rest, guiding his mouth back exactly where she wants it.
The moment he obeys, her body nearly bows in relief. But then the wave begins to crest—no longer a tease but a full, surging swell. Her breath catches, eyes wide. "Gods—Kai—you're gonna make me cum—" It spills out before she even understands it herself, her voice a tremulous mix of disbelief and heat. He’s the one doing this, he's the reason her entire body is tensing around the spark that’s building to wildfire, and not her hand this time, not her rhythm, but his mouth, his fingers, him.
And then it breaks.
Her orgasm crashes through her, unstoppable and searing, pleasure splitting her open from within. "Kaisel—" she cries, voice torn into something wild and helpless as her hips jerk forward into his face. Her fingers tangle tighter in his hair, but she doesn’t press—doesn’t need to. He’s already there, his mouth relentless and worshipful against her as the tremors take over. She’s moaning freely now, her voice high and breathless and wrecked with pleasure, her body shuddering in his hold like the tile itself might give way beneath her.
It’s all too much, and exactly enough. Every nerve is alight, every sound that slips from her lips some variation of his name, some gasp of need or praise, until finally she goes soft in his hands, trembling and breathless, panting through the haze he’s pulled her into.
The moment he obeys, her body nearly bows in relief. But then the wave begins to crest—no longer a tease but a full, surging swell. Her breath catches, eyes wide. "Gods—Kai—you're gonna make me cum—" It spills out before she even understands it herself, her voice a tremulous mix of disbelief and heat. He’s the one doing this, he's the reason her entire body is tensing around the spark that’s building to wildfire, and not her hand this time, not her rhythm, but his mouth, his fingers, him.
And then it breaks.
Her orgasm crashes through her, unstoppable and searing, pleasure splitting her open from within. "Kaisel—" she cries, voice torn into something wild and helpless as her hips jerk forward into his face. Her fingers tangle tighter in his hair, but she doesn’t press—doesn’t need to. He’s already there, his mouth relentless and worshipful against her as the tremors take over. She’s moaning freely now, her voice high and breathless and wrecked with pleasure, her body shuddering in his hold like the tile itself might give way beneath her.
It’s all too much, and exactly enough. Every nerve is alight, every sound that slips from her lips some variation of his name, some gasp of need or praise, until finally she goes soft in his hands, trembling and breathless, panting through the haze he’s pulled her into.
I hope you're sweating the bigger stuff,
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
finding some peace in an honest love
Hope you stop when you've had enough & throw the towel in
Code stolen from Queen Sky
