Iskra
Find something you can hold on to
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
Find someone who'll be there for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
The sudden gasp that echoes throughout her entire body when he seizes her into a better line for pleasure is something that he feels immediately. She tightens around him in every possible way, that jolt of confusion and fear rippling like he's skipped a stone over a pond and each arc of water is another part of her reshaping around the change, and in so doing, lapping up against him. The sensation rolls down his spine with a delightful shiver, the brief flare subsiding to her settling and granting even greater depths that he's eager to claim, especially as the hesitation fades and her agreement surges forth again.
"Fuck," he grinds out between breaths, the effort to string together actual thought, much less put it to voice, a massive undertaking as he feels the seams of him coming undone with every strike against her. "You feel like—you feel—incredible." His frenzy increases, spurred on by the impossible feeling of her fully taking him. He can feel the edge nearing between the two of them, and he abandons all thought of managing to kiss her now. Instead his forehead tips against her, jaw tightening as his hips thrust into her with as much force as he can muster to grant every spark of skin between them. His breath comes ragged with the effort, sides slick with a layer of sweat and heat.
He bears down on the feeling of splintering apart though, riding the curl of the spiderwebbing fracture of his composure. He wants to feel her curl up beneath him in the throes of utter ecstasy, knowing the moment he gives in, he'll be so swept away by the crash that he'll be useless for a while yet. Above all else, it's got to be her first. His grip tightens around her sides, thumbs digging into the curve of her ass and holding her that much firmer against the recoil of his thrust. "Melt, Mel," he commands, though it's a disguise of mercy.
"Fuck," he grinds out between breaths, the effort to string together actual thought, much less put it to voice, a massive undertaking as he feels the seams of him coming undone with every strike against her. "You feel like—you feel—incredible." His frenzy increases, spurred on by the impossible feeling of her fully taking him. He can feel the edge nearing between the two of them, and he abandons all thought of managing to kiss her now. Instead his forehead tips against her, jaw tightening as his hips thrust into her with as much force as he can muster to grant every spark of skin between them. His breath comes ragged with the effort, sides slick with a layer of sweat and heat.
He bears down on the feeling of splintering apart though, riding the curl of the spiderwebbing fracture of his composure. He wants to feel her curl up beneath him in the throes of utter ecstasy, knowing the moment he gives in, he'll be so swept away by the crash that he'll be useless for a while yet. Above all else, it's got to be her first. His grip tightens around her sides, thumbs digging into the curve of her ass and holding her that much firmer against the recoil of his thrust. "Melt, Mel," he commands, though it's a disguise of mercy.
Find somewhere you can come home to
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
Find someone that'll die for you
'Cause that's all that really matters in the end
