I'll let the flames take me high, burn down the whole damn sky
If only it could always be as simple as this—sliding into his touch like it’s all she’s ever needed. It folds everything else away. Maybe not neatly, not if she pays it any mind, but that’s the point, it’s gone. Sweep it into a lump under the fucking rug for all she cares, just hide it for long enough that she can remember what it’s like when none of it’s there.
Starlight and shadows drift away into water and empty chests. She doesn’t even have the thoughts left to compare, to remember, there’s only him now, encompassing every piece of her with the way he presses in.
A gasp hitches up and breaks apart into a moan as he fully drives into her. Her fingers curl tight and sudden against his hair, tugging on it with force as her body wraps around him as much as possible. A shudder rolls through her, pleasure sparking through the ripples, hot breath answering his curse in kind as she forces it out against his jaw. He is not given his demigodhood for no reason, as she well knows, but the reminder is a force that topples whatever composure she’d been clinging to.
Reduced to clutching him with every limb at her disposal, little more than a feral cat and nearly mewling for more, her hips tilt, coaxing friction. ”Harder,” she breathes, his name a praise she maintains, seeming to suggest her prayer to him deserves his elevation to godliness. Her knees squeezing in against him, back arching into the angle that threatens to melt her before long.
Starlight and shadows drift away into water and empty chests. She doesn’t even have the thoughts left to compare, to remember, there’s only him now, encompassing every piece of her with the way he presses in.
A gasp hitches up and breaks apart into a moan as he fully drives into her. Her fingers curl tight and sudden against his hair, tugging on it with force as her body wraps around him as much as possible. A shudder rolls through her, pleasure sparking through the ripples, hot breath answering his curse in kind as she forces it out against his jaw. He is not given his demigodhood for no reason, as she well knows, but the reminder is a force that topples whatever composure she’d been clinging to.
Reduced to clutching him with every limb at her disposal, little more than a feral cat and nearly mewling for more, her hips tilt, coaxing friction. ”Harder,” she breathes, his name a praise she maintains, seeming to suggest her prayer to him deserves his elevation to godliness. Her knees squeezing in against him, back arching into the angle that threatens to melt her before long.
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.
