you are such a soft and messy thing
nobody knows how to take care of you
Though the promise of the perks of an Ascended's form are tempting, Hotaru can't imagine being unable to touch, to taste, especially in moments like these. It only heightens her esteem of the woman who holds her in place with such simplistic, powerful movements. To strive for - and hopefully in this case, guarantee - a lover's satisfaction while incapable of feeling it yourself until the pinnacle? Not only selfless in its own way, but admirable to forge along that path. One that Hotaru intends to blaze tonight, to bring the pair of them down to embers and ash in the wake of pleasure beneath the moonlight. The fingers in her mouth are cool from water and lack of heated blood alike, but she moans softly around them all the same. Enjoying the view shamelessly, the strong and unapologetic build of the woman before her, a vision crafted of marble emerging from beneath an artist's worshipful hand. It is instinct to touch, one she doesn't deign to curb, letting herself rake her nails lightly against unblemished skin. She is rolled easily, going where Wessex wants her, happy to submit where it benefits her. The apex of her thighs is wet with the product of her own excitement, sticking delightfully as she shudders beneath Wessex's words and heavy, promising gaze. "Whatever my Lady demands," she croons softly, almost worshipful in her teasing.
It shouldn't be a kink to desire those fangs, the pain and pleasure alike they can bring, but Hotaru isn't one for sticking to the status quo. She fears Wessex is going to give her a fang complex after this, that she'll take one look at a smiling Ascended and her panties will spontaneously combust, but the prospect of a good hookup is worth the extra money in fabric if it does happen. Heave ho and over the ledge she goes. Or rather, she sidles up on her knees, one hand reaching to cup Wessex's cheek and brush a thumb down the cut of her bone before she conceals it with her thighs. A surprisingly tender motion considering where they are and how quickly they've gotten there, but one that's not so unsurprising coming from the woman herself. She positions herself above Wessex, blonde curls soaked and hips trembling minutely in anticipation before lowering herself down, breath already catching in her throat.
