Lena
// what is to give light must endure burning //
Zavien was a quick and efficient learner; dutiful and to the point, because as soon as she’d mentioned, crooned, and measured the right segments, he was off, stroking and finessing, finding those portions that added immense pleasure and pressure to the back of her spine. She could feel it slowly building in her abdomen, coiling, contorting, curling in on herself, her mind a beautiful haze of satisfaction and gratification – rarely expressed in the Caretaker’s threshold, so used to bending her will for others. But gods, he was doing wonders to her now, and she relished each movement and motion with an arc and undulation to her hips or a mewling portion of his name on her lips; adding even more once his mouth descended upon her breasts again and again. She arched into the touches, the finesses, the caresses with expressive moans, aching for the pinpoint of that release –
And when it came, blissful and sweeping, she was neither silent nor cautious. The heady unwinding claimed and clamored in a keening moan, Zavien repeated once more, echoing as her lips purposefully moved to the shell of his ears or the depths of his neck, sweat and sheen clinging to her skin. “That was so good,” she promised and confessed, in case he remained wholly uncertain of how much she’d enjoyed unraveling at his hands. Her legs slipped around his hips, clearly intending for him to join her in the sensual segments, mind barely confounding steps from here – save for things she’d been saving for right moments. “I have sheaths in the drawer,” an indication she’d been prepared, for some point in their romantic inclinations (and other missed opportunities); wanting to grant him the same fulfilling measures.
And when it came, blissful and sweeping, she was neither silent nor cautious. The heady unwinding claimed and clamored in a keening moan, Zavien repeated once more, echoing as her lips purposefully moved to the shell of his ears or the depths of his neck, sweat and sheen clinging to her skin. “That was so good,” she promised and confessed, in case he remained wholly uncertain of how much she’d enjoyed unraveling at his hands. Her legs slipped around his hips, clearly intending for him to join her in the sensual segments, mind barely confounding steps from here – save for things she’d been saving for right moments. “I have sheaths in the drawer,” an indication she’d been prepared, for some point in their romantic inclinations (and other missed opportunities); wanting to grant him the same fulfilling measures.
