It takes a leap of faith

Amalia

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stop thinking so much

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On and on and on he pushes, deeper and deeper, playing her like a melody, a symphony of strings in skillful hands. Sometimes his touches are feather-light and teasing, playing against the curves, the edges, enticing her into whimpers and murmurs, dulcet exhalations of desire and lust. Other times he rises the notes to crescendo, swift and adoring, measured and firm. He shifts her singing from a sonata to a symphony, mewls exaggerated into moans, heady and heavy and feral and his. His name is a broken refrain on her tongue, syllables patterned and played in staccato, little notes and fractured letters, reverent and wanton and full of ardor. Her hips rise in tandem with her actions, pulling and pushing and wanting and and hungry, as though she is a starving thing, dehydrated in the desert, an oasis in his touch.

She's close - she's close - and considering where she started she would be hard-pressed to hold out, to do anything other than ache and abandon, her body contorting in contours of lust. One leg stays hooked around his waist; the other pulls out of the tub entirely, widening, gripping, as she takes all he offers, feeling the rise of heat in her belly, the imminent onset of blissful release. Her right hand tangles and tears at his mane; her left slinks downward, tracing lines of his back, claws on his scapulae as she arches and aches. A guttural groan pulls from deep in her chest; "Deimos," she groans out from between clenched teeth, the hymn of his name pressed against his lips. Her tongue pushes forward, plundering, seeking, as her body shivers and dances and burns, her finale a lightning storm behind closed eyes. "Deimos, Deimos, Deimos-"

Amalia exhales and falls back into the tub, her body limp and shuddering, shock-waves rocking through her delicate form. For a minute it is all she can to to simply breathe, still shivering, still shaking, a spent and satisfied smile on her lips, her eyelids fluttering against raised cheekbones. Something like a purr vibrates through her as she hums a wordless yet eloquent note. "So much for cleaning," Amalia murmurs, too dizzy and delighted for anything else.

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you're breaking your own heart

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