He doesn’t speak at first. The soft strain of her voice, the pressure of her body grinding back against his, the sheer vulnerability in her whispered please; every bit of it hums like a tuning fork in his chest. Ever’s hand, the one she’s pulled to her, slides across the curve of her hip before settling with aching reverence, spreading his fingers wide across her belly. She’s flushed and golden in the mirror, curves lit by lamplight, hair loose and wild, her eyes locked on his with a kind of sweetness that unravels him completely.
His other hand comes to rest just beneath hers, cupping her breast briefly before sweeping away so he can guide himself into her, the thick press of him slow at first, adoring. Isla feels impossibly warm around him, and he exhales like it knocks the breath from his lungs entirely. The initial thrust is tender, his hips rolling forward with studied control, but that slips fast, tangled somewhere between her soft gasp and the way she braces against him in the mirror.
She’s too much and just enough, her back arching perfectly into him, the mirror reflecting the ripple of motion and sweat, the way her body yields and responds to each careful drive of his hips. Ever stays focused, eyes locked on hers even as his forehead drops toward the back of her shoulder, murmured I love yous punctuating the rhythm, almost involuntarily. He holds her close when she starts to come undone, one hand splaying across her chest to anchor her, the other gripping her hip to steady the rhythm until he feels her shake and tighten around him, and only then does he let go.
Even in the afterglow, Ever moves with care, catching Isla around the waist and guiding them both gently toward the bed. He lays her down like something sacred, something irreplaceable, and then folds himself around her like he belongs there. Their limbs tangle naturally; his broad chest against her spine, one arm pillowed beneath her head, the other wrapped snug around her waist, their breath slowly syncing as the quiet rushes in to cradle them.
~FIN
His other hand comes to rest just beneath hers, cupping her breast briefly before sweeping away so he can guide himself into her, the thick press of him slow at first, adoring. Isla feels impossibly warm around him, and he exhales like it knocks the breath from his lungs entirely. The initial thrust is tender, his hips rolling forward with studied control, but that slips fast, tangled somewhere between her soft gasp and the way she braces against him in the mirror.
She’s too much and just enough, her back arching perfectly into him, the mirror reflecting the ripple of motion and sweat, the way her body yields and responds to each careful drive of his hips. Ever stays focused, eyes locked on hers even as his forehead drops toward the back of her shoulder, murmured I love yous punctuating the rhythm, almost involuntarily. He holds her close when she starts to come undone, one hand splaying across her chest to anchor her, the other gripping her hip to steady the rhythm until he feels her shake and tighten around him, and only then does he let go.
Even in the afterglow, Ever moves with care, catching Isla around the waist and guiding them both gently toward the bed. He lays her down like something sacred, something irreplaceable, and then folds himself around her like he belongs there. Their limbs tangle naturally; his broad chest against her spine, one arm pillowed beneath her head, the other wrapped snug around her waist, their breath slowly syncing as the quiet rushes in to cradle them.
~FIN
I will not be brave
but i'm grateful to get through
but i'm grateful to get through
