// I'd take the fall—I got you covered when there's no one at all //
His name torn apart and rebuilt on her breath sings through him like lightning. It shocks every muscle into tighter motion, sharper need, until he's just something wild and wanting. He buries himself inside her like he means never to part, as if forever is built within her and he's headed there to claim it at last. She takes him fully, as though she's sculpted to withstand every bit of him, and it rips through him with a pleasure so intense it borders on agony.
When she braces her foot against the far wall, offering more, he seizes it greedily. “Gods—Flora,” he grits out, the syllables unraveling around a groan as his hips snap forward with a force that punches the breath from his own lungs. His thrusts grow rougher, more urgent, answering the way she clenches at the peak of every stroke, her body begging him not to stop. He presses his forehead to hers, growling through a ragged exhale as the tiles hum behind her in rhythm with his hips. “You feel fucking made for me.”
The sound of her voice in shreds, that fuck born on breath and sin, strikes him deep and primal. He crushes her mouth in a kiss that’s more instinct than thought, something ravenous that swallows the sound before it can leave her a second time, no better than a glutton for her undoing. His teeth scrape her lower lip, tongue dragging against hers in a frenzy, but one he can't maintain amid the razing of all his senses. He tears his mouth from her, breath coming out in hot, uneven bursts against her cheek.
His gaze down, her chest swaying, and he appraises her with a mangled sound of need. The wide brace of her leg, the shake in her thighs, the way her body yields for him. “Fuck—look at you.” It's barely more than panted noise, voice breaking on the edge of an exhale. He draws his focus back up to her face, storm-struck in this shower tempest, utterly gorgeous in this mutual ruin. She’s not just letting him have her, she’s giving herself, meeting him, bracing for more like he could never overwhelm her. It opens up something new in him.
His hands shove higher beneath her thighs, fingers spreading against her in a cradle, and he lifts her fully off the wall. Leaning her into his chest, he tilts into her neck, lips dragging across her throat, the rest of her weight pressing down on his cock. It delivers a new, delicious edge to the wet heat. his fingers tighten around her, hauling her down and up with each thrust so it lands sharp and whole.
When she braces her foot against the far wall, offering more, he seizes it greedily. “Gods—Flora,” he grits out, the syllables unraveling around a groan as his hips snap forward with a force that punches the breath from his own lungs. His thrusts grow rougher, more urgent, answering the way she clenches at the peak of every stroke, her body begging him not to stop. He presses his forehead to hers, growling through a ragged exhale as the tiles hum behind her in rhythm with his hips. “You feel fucking made for me.”
The sound of her voice in shreds, that fuck born on breath and sin, strikes him deep and primal. He crushes her mouth in a kiss that’s more instinct than thought, something ravenous that swallows the sound before it can leave her a second time, no better than a glutton for her undoing. His teeth scrape her lower lip, tongue dragging against hers in a frenzy, but one he can't maintain amid the razing of all his senses. He tears his mouth from her, breath coming out in hot, uneven bursts against her cheek.
His gaze down, her chest swaying, and he appraises her with a mangled sound of need. The wide brace of her leg, the shake in her thighs, the way her body yields for him. “Fuck—look at you.” It's barely more than panted noise, voice breaking on the edge of an exhale. He draws his focus back up to her face, storm-struck in this shower tempest, utterly gorgeous in this mutual ruin. She’s not just letting him have her, she’s giving herself, meeting him, bracing for more like he could never overwhelm her. It opens up something new in him.
His hands shove higher beneath her thighs, fingers spreading against her in a cradle, and he lifts her fully off the wall. Leaning her into his chest, he tilts into her neck, lips dragging across her throat, the rest of her weight pressing down on his cock. It delivers a new, delicious edge to the wet heat. his fingers tighten around her, hauling her down and up with each thrust so it lands sharp and whole.
Kaisel
// When you need somebody to turn to—Nobody got you the way I do //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
