Obediently you let her move your face, watching her scrutinize the wound with amusement in your eyes. It's certainly less ugly than he had been, though still red and far from fully scarred (you really should see a proper healer, idiot). Raising an eyebrow at her pout, you offer up a smirk. "Like it? I won it in a fight with the Arbiter. Fella' was even considerate enough not't take my eye."
But then her lips are on yours again and the last thing you're going to be thinking about is gods-damned Sunjata. Grinning against her eager mouth you let her kiss you willingly, enjoying the taste of her, wondering if she can taste herself on you. Your hand meanwhile has slipped from her hip to maneuver to her inner thigh; almost absently you rub your thumb in lazy circles just where the curls of dark hair begin, the blood already returning to your cock at the potential for a rematch.
Zephyr
you can be the ripest, juciest peach in the world
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
and there's still going to be someone who hates peaches
