I'll let the flames take me high, burn down the whole damn sky
The arousal he’s fed is a rush that easily pulls her under, a wave that curls in and blots out the rest. It swells as equally in the wake of his hands as it does his words, and while she has always enjoyed his accent, it’s what he says rather than how that really drags her under in this moment. Being needed, being something he could drown in, it’s a balm that smothers every quiet night she’s spent alone as of late. She can feel the intensity of it curl around her as his breath coasts against her skin, teeth pulling a shiver of nerves that rattles up through her spine.
It’s difficult then to draw away, but she doesn’t want this clumsy and half-assed. If they mean to dampen the rest of the world into just the places they connect, then she wants to feel him fully, wants to offer him everything she has, so they need something more reliable than cushioned comfort.
The hard, unyielding edge of the table presses into the back of her as she turns to face him, crowded into it by the approach of him that she summons with the last trial of her hand. Her grin deepens with approval, arms lacing around his neck and carding her fingers through his hair as they press together again. ”Much,” she agrees, the tone tilted into desire, low and wanting.
A small squeal of surprise erupts then as he tugs her up, the curve of her ass brushing the table edge, bearing some of her weight. Her arms grip tighter, knees pressing in at his sides, body bracing before the startled thrill dissolves into a faint laugh into the side of his neck. Her breasts brush against him as she arcs into his hold, little better than butter in his arms. The smile drops from her mouth as she leans in, teeth and tongue tracing the edge of his ear. ”Take me,” she breathes, ready to forget where she ends and he begins.
It’s difficult then to draw away, but she doesn’t want this clumsy and half-assed. If they mean to dampen the rest of the world into just the places they connect, then she wants to feel him fully, wants to offer him everything she has, so they need something more reliable than cushioned comfort.
The hard, unyielding edge of the table presses into the back of her as she turns to face him, crowded into it by the approach of him that she summons with the last trial of her hand. Her grin deepens with approval, arms lacing around his neck and carding her fingers through his hair as they press together again. ”Much,” she agrees, the tone tilted into desire, low and wanting.
A small squeal of surprise erupts then as he tugs her up, the curve of her ass brushing the table edge, bearing some of her weight. Her arms grip tighter, knees pressing in at his sides, body bracing before the startled thrill dissolves into a faint laugh into the side of his neck. Her breasts brush against him as she arcs into his hold, little better than butter in his arms. The smile drops from her mouth as she leans in, teeth and tongue tracing the edge of his ear. ”Take me,” she breathes, ready to forget where she ends and he begins.
Colt
I spent the night on the ceiling, drank the whole weight of my weakness
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
