my bones are caving in

It's in the stars
it's been written in the scars on our hearts

His hand ventures over her curves, then presses with clear intention to the folds, fingers seeking that which they knew well. The bond only heightens his pleasure, as his motions draw it out of her and she reflects it to him, as his cock is enveloped by her lips and he moans against her - it was a loop, a cycle that only seemed to increase with each pass between them. He finds her other lips then, pleased when her form shifts to give him easier access, and moreso again when he finds her hot, wet and ready for him. He runs his index and middle finger along the length of her lips, dancing around and past her entrance as they sought the hardening lump of her clit, to press and play, massage and toy with her.

As her mouth presses down on him he can't help the gentle, controlled roll of his hips, a contained rocking motion as he leans into her rhythm, his fingers still playing with her, and now his thumb enters her, pressing in up to the meat of his hand. Then, as her head lifted, his thumb comes out, matching her rhythm, even as he pressed and massaged her clit, stoking the fires that he felt through her too.

Hungrily, greedily he groans against her, the noises coming from him animalistic, primal, doing nothing but express the sheer carnal desire that consumes him. He feels himself nearing, feels the pulses of heat and need increasing - but he has time, he has control, he could ride out the challenge she had set forth for him.

That we're not broken just bent
and we can learn to love again

CHULANE