It's a feeling we always chase

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

It’s almost as if she becomes clay beneath his hands, the way his lips travel along her skin and her lips, the way she could be molded against him to fit perfectly. He hums his quiet approval at the way she arches against his hand, filling his palm up more and his thumb brushes out to flick at the nipple peaked there. She nips at his lower lip and another quiet hum leaves him, some hint amusement, tilting his head away from her to give her room against his cheek, neck, ear.

Her voice is an offering, a purr, an option. And he thinks about it briefly while the thumb that’s hooked into her underwear pulls them down further, shifting to slip them from her legs. But he nears her again, pressing his hips against her once more, grinding how hard he is as he kisses her neck lightly, a smirk crossing his face when the thought hits.

“I want you to make it up to me.” He growls to her, nipping at her neck before pulling away with a smug smirk along his face, pawing at her breast again. If she wants to make it up to him, now’s her chance, her permission to show him just how much she wanted him.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell