Amalia
the shield of safrin
She would have continued along the lines of her ministrations, sang songs against his skin until he came wholly undone, unraveling and enlightened in her hands and lips. She would have brought him flying off the brink, entreated and teased until he was nothing but smoke and embers in the wind.
She would- but the Sword has other plans, and who is she to deny him his insistence when all she has ever wanted is to give him all she has? With a soft mewl of playful protest she allows her body to be drawn up, stopping to press a series of kisses to all the exposed skin she can reach before tangling her arms around his neck, black eyes bright and clouded with lust as she falls into his blue. As he works below she lets her mouth crash back upon his, wanton avarice as she devours him, her bare skin pressed sensually upon his, her hips rising obediently before dropping back down.
Amalia exhales a sharp, pleased gasp as Deimos fills her once again, her senses flooding, already sensitive and riding the edges of their earlier interludes. Rising up she arches her back, palms splayed upon his chest as the girl bites her lip, a leopard's sharp fangs drawing just a little blood. Exhaling a fervent, shuddering breath she begins to rise and fall, following the pace he sets in an easy, ardent rhythm, already on the cusp of her own repeat release.
She would- but the Sword has other plans, and who is she to deny him his insistence when all she has ever wanted is to give him all she has? With a soft mewl of playful protest she allows her body to be drawn up, stopping to press a series of kisses to all the exposed skin she can reach before tangling her arms around his neck, black eyes bright and clouded with lust as she falls into his blue. As he works below she lets her mouth crash back upon his, wanton avarice as she devours him, her bare skin pressed sensually upon his, her hips rising obediently before dropping back down.
Amalia exhales a sharp, pleased gasp as Deimos fills her once again, her senses flooding, already sensitive and riding the edges of their earlier interludes. Rising up she arches her back, palms splayed upon his chest as the girl bites her lip, a leopard's sharp fangs drawing just a little blood. Exhaling a fervent, shuddering breath she begins to rise and fall, following the pace he sets in an easy, ardent rhythm, already on the cusp of her own repeat release.
you drew memories in my mind
i could never erase
you painted colors in my heart
i could never replace
