your hands are scarred from murder

MAEA

His response was a question and an answer all in one, and Maea found she didn't know what to say, if she should say anything at all. It was very hard to think at all with his hands stroking her thighs, the skin on the inside tender and blessedly free from bruises. Very soft, very sensitive... and his stubbled cheek against it made her very keenly aware of every movement he made. His mouth was hot against it, the fingers light and taunting as they circled upwards from the knees and towards... towards...

Again her hands found his hair, fingers squeezing it as if needing something to hold on to. Tickling currents of pleasure zipped from the places he touched, upwards, to where he was clearly headed. Maea was shocked to find herself quite ready for him already, a sweet ache building between her legs in anticipation. He'd never done this before... she had no idea what to expect. Just knew he was teasing, dragging it out... and if she tried to hurry him, it would only make him play even more.

So she watched him, with dialated pupils and smoldering gaze. And waited, breath bated and quick, shallow intakes that did little to actually ground her. Perhaps she was a little tense... but he would no doubt remedy that soon enough.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3