fight for the things that crack light into your life

MELITA

The way he bucked up against her, like a chase into things they already had, wound through her senses and semblances as a coiled, contorted promise. A demand low in her belly threatened to scorch and maim and have without regrets, and she didn’t bother hiding it, insistent as her teeth pinched over his skin, lips raised across his neck in feverish kisses, marking, imploring.

The murmur, the notions of a list, made her laugh though; a light giggle that couldn’t quite conquer the hooded haze of lust and love, her mind conjuring a thousand things all in one prospering dominion. “What would be at the top?” she snagged out of her mercurial whimsy, a joke laden on the prospects of their wanton indulgence, aiming to hear what he’d want before –

Then he teased and toyed and all she could exhibit first was a loud gasp and a high keen, a whine, as he rolled his grasp along her thigh. Much too light and not nearly enough and purposefully orchestrating his own path, her features turned into a mulish pinch of nose and mouth as she uttered, growled, something along the lines of “Shithead.” Hardly her best, but her skin and body and mind were so taut with arousal that it scarcely mattered; hips striving to turn towards the insistent plunge and movement of his fingers. Then she was a shuddering, moaning mess, little harsh intakes of breath urgent for more, as her head settled somewhere in between his neck and shoulder.

Just before enacting her own revenge.

Two could play at that game, she supposed in her already rattled, addled thoughts. One hand reached down for his cock, fully intending to run her fingers lightly over its smooth, silken flesh, just a touch, just a trace, to gain reactions and upheavals.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight

Iskra

A devious shape finds his features, flaring out in immediate response to the stifled insult. That's almost worth more than the small, breathy sounds that desire tilts into her lips, taking all her usual heat and turning it inwards to a feral burn. A chuckle of triumph escapes, and his next curl of finger comes with more depth and insistence, as if this too is just a competition for them.

Her question from earlier blazes through him, and he affords it an answer now, cruelly giving her something to consider as pleasure climbs her. "I'd love to watch you cum all your own one time," he murmurs it just against her neck as his thumb strokes down her clit, inspiring another shudder in his lap.

It's all fun and games until it's turned around on him, the first pass of her hand against him sending a jolt through his entire body, stilling his hands for a moment. "Mellll," he tests with the low drag of voice, intending to punish her further with more obedient slide of his hand against her, coaxing out every roll her can from her hips.

I can see the sunshine for the first time in a while
It's like I've been baptized by the warmth of your smile

MELITA

The shape of sedition came in many forms, and today it was coming in wanton decrees and degrees; as he moved his fingers her toes curled and her head fell forward, resting on his shoulder muscles as her legs clenched around him, desperately seeking more. The pleasure mounted and skirted and scaled; breathless crescendos rising out of her, body taut like a bow string, waiting for him to pluck at just the right angle and pace.

His response was not what she expected, and she managed a cackle in between a few salacious moans. “Oh, you want me to do all the work?” sputtered out of her eventually, on sharp inhales scattering through her teeth, but by then her lips pressed along one of his many tattoos and she was desperately clinging to any morsel of thought. When he didn’t ask hers, she imagined instead; probably something with his mouth –

Her vengeance, while hastily constructed, inspired the low granules of his voice and gods it was nice to hear her name uttered like that. It was just the right measure, in and amongst another slide of his hand, to inspire the tide of her release. It came sharp and unashamed, with her gasping and moaning into his ear, thighs clenched around his hips and trying to scurry, climb, higher, gain more of the pleasure, of the satisfaction, share it in their thresholds. The hand holding his cock dragged it closer to her core, toying, teasing, taunting, but certainly granting permission, wanting and wanting still.

This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight