Eloise
Eloise had ever assumed Jack to be a rather selfish fuck in bed. He certainly gave off the air of entitlement in other areas of his life, that it hadn't occurred to her to think he might use his mind-fuckery for good. For her. Never before had Eloise been quite so pleased to have been proven unequivocally wrong. And as he filled her again from behind, the angle making her gasp with relief as much as desire, whatever lingering walls she might have had up entirely came down. There was only the methodical pull of him mirrored in the waves around them, and the burning core of her that turned her thoughts into flashes of colour and light.
So consumed by the weight and heat and fullness of him inside of her, Eloise hardly noticed the movement of his free arm until his fingers snaked their way between her legs. With anyone else she might have moaned their name for encouragement, but such wasn't required here. Not with her thoughts turning heated and wreckless. That, and she was too overcome with raw desire to do much of anything other than writhe beneath him, grateful for the dexterity of his fingers and his surprising skill.
Feeling her orgasm begin to build, a spark that seemed to start simultaneously low in her belly as much as in her toes, Eloise gripped the sheets with one hand, tightening Jack's grip around her neck with the other. Her mind was a loop of frantic pleas for him not to stop; images of their bodies as they were now flashed in vivid colour, but that wasn't all. Every moment of sexual tension between them flashed in a bright and blurred succession: when she'd first learned his secret turned into a passionate fuck on the sands rather than her almost-death; moments of frustration ended with Jack fucking her in an alley still mostly clothed, mumbling curses in her ear; the night he'd saved her in the fingers turning into Eloise on her knees expressing her appreciation; and a thousand other moments that might have turned into precisely this had the winds been blowing differently.
So consumed by the weight and heat and fullness of him inside of her, Eloise hardly noticed the movement of his free arm until his fingers snaked their way between her legs. With anyone else she might have moaned their name for encouragement, but such wasn't required here. Not with her thoughts turning heated and wreckless. That, and she was too overcome with raw desire to do much of anything other than writhe beneath him, grateful for the dexterity of his fingers and his surprising skill.
Feeling her orgasm begin to build, a spark that seemed to start simultaneously low in her belly as much as in her toes, Eloise gripped the sheets with one hand, tightening Jack's grip around her neck with the other. Her mind was a loop of frantic pleas for him not to stop; images of their bodies as they were now flashed in vivid colour, but that wasn't all. Every moment of sexual tension between them flashed in a bright and blurred succession: when she'd first learned his secret turned into a passionate fuck on the sands rather than her almost-death; moments of frustration ended with Jack fucking her in an alley still mostly clothed, mumbling curses in her ear; the night he'd saved her in the fingers turning into Eloise on her knees expressing her appreciation; and a thousand other moments that might have turned into precisely this had the winds been blowing differently.
I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em
