bottom line, we made it out the first time still in love and half alive
The sound she makes when his fingers find her is immediate and unguarded, something low and feral that breaks loose from her as her hips jolt forward against his hand, her grip tightening on his shoulder as if to steady herself and drag him deeper into it at the same time.
His question only sharpens her grin, something wicked and bright as she leans down, her mouth brushing his. "No," she murmurs against him, voice thick with heat but edged in something far steadier, something that doesn’t waver. "I never want to hear you beg." He would, if she wanted it, but even as nothing more than an act of lip service, the Ark never wanted to see him brought low.
Jack's clever fingers won't get to tease her for long; she takes the rhythm from him almost as soon as he offers it, rolling into his touch with a deliberate pressure before leaning forward to kiss him hard and claiming, her hand at his shoulder pushing as her body follows through, guiding him fully back onto the bed. She moves with him, then over him, until she can perch properly astride him. Her hair spills forward in dark, restless waves as she looks down at him, the curve of her mouth slow and triumphant, her weight shifting just enough to draw a sharp breath from her as she positions the head of his cock against her. For a moment she holds him there, suspended, her gaze fixed on his. "I am going to fuck you, though."
When she finally moves, it’s with a control that refuses to rush, even as the reaction it pulls from her is anything but contained, the sound spilling from her lips deep and unrestrained as the tension she’s been holding snaps into something fuller, something that fills her and drives the breath from her chest all at once. Outside, it carries—echoing faintly through the alley where her wake has already drawn them close—while inside she keeps her focus locked on him as his name spills from her lips.
His question only sharpens her grin, something wicked and bright as she leans down, her mouth brushing his. "No," she murmurs against him, voice thick with heat but edged in something far steadier, something that doesn’t waver. "I never want to hear you beg." He would, if she wanted it, but even as nothing more than an act of lip service, the Ark never wanted to see him brought low.
Jack's clever fingers won't get to tease her for long; she takes the rhythm from him almost as soon as he offers it, rolling into his touch with a deliberate pressure before leaning forward to kiss him hard and claiming, her hand at his shoulder pushing as her body follows through, guiding him fully back onto the bed. She moves with him, then over him, until she can perch properly astride him. Her hair spills forward in dark, restless waves as she looks down at him, the curve of her mouth slow and triumphant, her weight shifting just enough to draw a sharp breath from her as she positions the head of his cock against her. For a moment she holds him there, suspended, her gaze fixed on his. "I am going to fuck you, though."
When she finally moves, it’s with a control that refuses to rush, even as the reaction it pulls from her is anything but contained, the sound spilling from her lips deep and unrestrained as the tension she’s been holding snaps into something fuller, something that fills her and drives the breath from her chest all at once. Outside, it carries—echoing faintly through the alley where her wake has already drawn them close—while inside she keeps her focus locked on him as his name spills from her lips.
we didn't die, but no guarantees this time, but fuck it lets do it again
Siren's Wake | After she leaves a space, traces of her presence linger briefly: a faint scent of salt, the sound of distant water, a restless feeling in the chest. People rarely notice it consciously.
