Catchy Title

'Your imagination is a powerful thing...' Frey whispered. Opening her eyes, whether real or simply in her minds-eye, Phoebe would find that it wasn't her finger between her legs (though it was), but Loren. With strong hands around her hips and eyes the colour of dusty denim peering up at her, Phoebe would feel the soft trickle of the summoner's tongue stroking out the lightest come hither motion against her. Reaching a hand up the length of her body, one of Loren's hands would find the globe of her breast (though it was her own hand, in fact), cupping it and squeezing as the flat of his tongue slipped past her lips and into the wet dark heat of her. Teasing a nipple with dexterous fingers as his tongue lapped inwards and then up, rounding far too softly around her clit to do anything but drive her mad, Phoebe would feel the reverberations of the Launceleyn's words humming against her. "I've always wanted you..." Loren said against her, raising his head just enough that she might see the flush across his cheeks, the heat in his blue stare. Rising to pull himself over her, hovering there with hands on either side of shoulders, Phoebe would notice that Loren was naked as well. And, because Frey would never leave her wanting, the summoner was athletically toned and well-endowed. "Tell me you want me—" The Frey-Loren pleaded in a husky voice, his head lowering to press his lips against hers again and again. With a tongue desperate to taste every bit of her, his hips lowered against her so that his erection pressed suggestively, but not insistently. Frey