Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
The sight of her like this is something he'll never tire of. Half-spilled over the edge of the bed, strewn out in arching gold beneath his guiding hands, Flora is all flushed heat and trembling want. Curls mussed and clinging to every part of her they touch, hat askew like the perfect cherry on top, pom-poms bouncing faintly with every breath she can’t quite steady. Her skin is luminous in the low light, blooming with heat and arousal that decorates her better than the lace could ever have hoped to. Her chest rising fast beneath the hitch of her breathing, eyes glossy and pleading above the pout of her lips, parting over sounds that threaten to drive him to madness. She's beautiful in so many ways, but like this, tight and rolling and needy around him, her radiance runs the risk of becoming divine.
Her begging pulls him forward without thought, one hand settling near her head against the mattress as he leans in further. The motion bends her knees up towards her chest, deepening his reach. The slope of the bed still wants to feed her off it with how much he's pulled her over its edge, but she's at no risk of falling with every thrust catching her, the strikes rich with her weight adding to the sensation. Every collision crests with pleasure, the angle of her doing as much work as his intent. The bed creaks softly below, lost to the ruinous sound of him delivering exactly what she's asked for.
His forehead dips close to hers, breath mingling, her presence surrounding him so completely he's certain it's her moans he's recycling back on his own tongue. “You—gods—Flora.” It’s not even a sentence, just air shoved out of a man beginning to crumble to rapture. He keeps her steady, keeps her held, even as he aims to send her to pieces with every relentless drive of his hips. Everything else has long since dissolved into heat and motion and the sound of her want, the world closed off to nothing more than the press of their bodies and the resolute knowledge that they have each other fully, fiercely, and without restraint. The scent of strawberries is the only thing that creeps in, new to this moment, and full of promise that it'll be captured now in memory such that he'll never be able to think of one again without imagining he here, just like this.
Her begging pulls him forward without thought, one hand settling near her head against the mattress as he leans in further. The motion bends her knees up towards her chest, deepening his reach. The slope of the bed still wants to feed her off it with how much he's pulled her over its edge, but she's at no risk of falling with every thrust catching her, the strikes rich with her weight adding to the sensation. Every collision crests with pleasure, the angle of her doing as much work as his intent. The bed creaks softly below, lost to the ruinous sound of him delivering exactly what she's asked for.
His forehead dips close to hers, breath mingling, her presence surrounding him so completely he's certain it's her moans he's recycling back on his own tongue. “You—gods—Flora.” It’s not even a sentence, just air shoved out of a man beginning to crumble to rapture. He keeps her steady, keeps her held, even as he aims to send her to pieces with every relentless drive of his hips. Everything else has long since dissolved into heat and motion and the sound of her want, the world closed off to nothing more than the press of their bodies and the resolute knowledge that they have each other fully, fiercely, and without restraint. The scent of strawberries is the only thing that creeps in, new to this moment, and full of promise that it'll be captured now in memory such that he'll never be able to think of one again without imagining he here, just like this.
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
