I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck
than any boy you'll ever meet,
It’s easy to fall into the throws of her, hips grinding into hers, deep and withholding a fair amount of power. It’s also easy to get lost in her, in the sounds that leave her that sound and chime like music to his ears. But he’s still there enough to realize the game she plays as well, as he takes the moment to pin her arm back, his other hand along her throat.
But she surprises him more, the distinct sound of a click that reminds him so much of home that it distracts him, head lifting to look at it right as she clicks it closed around the headboard and his eyes narrow on her, a grin forming along his face through the pants he gives, but he doesn’t slow. Not at least, until one hand grips at his throat over the scar as he shudders, the other to his side, and she shoves, and while she’s small compared to him, she is mighty, and with one arm essentially tied, he’s helpless in preventing the shift of his balance.
His free hand grapples for her with a surprised, husky chuckle that leaves him, laying back onto his spine, looking up at her, one arm suspended in the air. “Are you hoping I’m at your mercy?” He has hardly any room to talk, his dominant hand latched to the headboard, but he bumps his hips up against her as if to prove he still has some power, a wicked smirk crossing his lips. And then, for added measure, he leans his torso up toward her, his free hands fingers tangling in her hair as he tugs with that same smirk. “I’m afraid I don’t follow the rules very well.” A rebel through and through.
But she surprises him more, the distinct sound of a click that reminds him so much of home that it distracts him, head lifting to look at it right as she clicks it closed around the headboard and his eyes narrow on her, a grin forming along his face through the pants he gives, but he doesn’t slow. Not at least, until one hand grips at his throat over the scar as he shudders, the other to his side, and she shoves, and while she’s small compared to him, she is mighty, and with one arm essentially tied, he’s helpless in preventing the shift of his balance.
His free hand grapples for her with a surprised, husky chuckle that leaves him, laying back onto his spine, looking up at her, one arm suspended in the air. “Are you hoping I’m at your mercy?” He has hardly any room to talk, his dominant hand latched to the headboard, but he bumps his hips up against her as if to prove he still has some power, a wicked smirk crossing his lips. And then, for added measure, he leans his torso up toward her, his free hands fingers tangling in her hair as he tugs with that same smirk. “I’m afraid I don’t follow the rules very well.” A rebel through and through.
sweetie, you had me
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
