Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
It isn’t just pleasure that unlaces him, it’s the way she becomes less woman than tempest. She's all tremor and raw, feral need—a living force breaking loose beneath his hands. The sounds she makes are not learned or pretty; they are instinctive, torn straight from her chest, even as she bites them back, and they pull him forward like she's an undertow he can't escape, not that he wants to. There is no resisting her like this, no keeping himself apart—she draws him in with the inevitability that surf and storms have, the kind that doesn’t ask permission before it rearranges the world. When she finally breaks, when that wild, radiant release tears through her, it takes him with it.
Her plea, barely words than a sound of tension snapping, folds him over her without thought. Every part of her clenches around him, dragging him towards release with a relentless gravity that he groans into. He drives her higher up onto the bed with a series of final, desperate thrusts, a man trying to best weather if only to prolong the moment. There's no hope, he can only surrender to the force of her heat, the feel of it shivering through him with every tremble of her falling apart, a pace he can't outrun. "Fuck Flora," he growls out from the corners of clenched teeth, spine stiffening to the sensation of wrecking himself on her. "I can't—you're too—" breath leaves him in a mess of sound as the pressure splits. His forehead drops to hers, hands fisting in the blankets on either sides of her head, hips jerking once and then holding rigid with release against her.
The aftershocks roll through her, every tremor a delayed echo that sings into him, keeping his breath uneven and grip tightening in helpless response. Slowly, he tips his head up, pressing slow, reverent kisses into her brow as they shudder. There's nothing hungry or demanding now, just the anchor of touch, keeping each other from drifting too far. “Flora,” he exhales, her name nothing but a pulse against her skin, the same that hums quietly beneath his with certainty that she's just as vital. He presses another kiss into her hair, into her temple, grounding and steady, murmuring soft, unintelligible things against her skin. Not words meant to be understood so much as felt, needing to give her the quiet, shaken wonder that is loving her.
Strength wanes as the light and heat subside like a tide retreating, the storm easing back to a known calm. He tilts onto the side of her, crashing into the bed fully and with a contented sigh, reaching to pull the pendant out from under his shoulder as he settles. Skin sticky with residual warmth and the shine of sweat that threatens to grow cold soon, he stays clinging to every inch of her he can, pausing whenever it feels like some part is peeling free. An arm flops over her without ceremony, too foggy with bliss to do anything but hold her as close as he can by whatever means he's able, one foot even curling to try and keep contact with hers. "Let's just live here. Never go back. We'll just sleep and fuck and hide under the covers, forever."
Her plea, barely words than a sound of tension snapping, folds him over her without thought. Every part of her clenches around him, dragging him towards release with a relentless gravity that he groans into. He drives her higher up onto the bed with a series of final, desperate thrusts, a man trying to best weather if only to prolong the moment. There's no hope, he can only surrender to the force of her heat, the feel of it shivering through him with every tremble of her falling apart, a pace he can't outrun. "Fuck Flora," he growls out from the corners of clenched teeth, spine stiffening to the sensation of wrecking himself on her. "I can't—you're too—" breath leaves him in a mess of sound as the pressure splits. His forehead drops to hers, hands fisting in the blankets on either sides of her head, hips jerking once and then holding rigid with release against her.
The aftershocks roll through her, every tremor a delayed echo that sings into him, keeping his breath uneven and grip tightening in helpless response. Slowly, he tips his head up, pressing slow, reverent kisses into her brow as they shudder. There's nothing hungry or demanding now, just the anchor of touch, keeping each other from drifting too far. “Flora,” he exhales, her name nothing but a pulse against her skin, the same that hums quietly beneath his with certainty that she's just as vital. He presses another kiss into her hair, into her temple, grounding and steady, murmuring soft, unintelligible things against her skin. Not words meant to be understood so much as felt, needing to give her the quiet, shaken wonder that is loving her.
Strength wanes as the light and heat subside like a tide retreating, the storm easing back to a known calm. He tilts onto the side of her, crashing into the bed fully and with a contented sigh, reaching to pull the pendant out from under his shoulder as he settles. Skin sticky with residual warmth and the shine of sweat that threatens to grow cold soon, he stays clinging to every inch of her he can, pausing whenever it feels like some part is peeling free. An arm flops over her without ceremony, too foggy with bliss to do anything but hold her as close as he can by whatever means he's able, one foot even curling to try and keep contact with hers. "Let's just live here. Never go back. We'll just sleep and fuck and hide under the covers, forever."
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
