I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
"I'll have to remind myself not to be so forgetful," Jack growls, hissing in a breath as Raza thrusts back against him, and the flush of her pleasure echoes throughout his body. Gripping her hips a little harder, he lets her set the pace for a little while, the bottles on the bar rattling and sweat starting to bead along bronzed skin. But sometimes there's an itch that can only be scratched by a real good fuck, and that's exactly what he plans to give Raza.
With another hitch of breath, Jack suddenly surges forward, driving them further against the bar with renewed passion. One hand snakes along her side to grasp at her shoulder that he might gain a little more leverage, the captain thrusting harder, faster, until one of the bottles slips and smashes to the ground. He'll pay for it - whatever.
With another hitch of breath, Jack suddenly surges forward, driving them further against the bar with renewed passion. One hand snakes along her side to grasp at her shoulder that he might gain a little more leverage, the captain thrusting harder, faster, until one of the bottles slips and smashes to the ground. He'll pay for it - whatever.
Jack being an Abandoned is common knowledge these days, however his Telepathy remains a well-kept secret:
Magic: Passive Telepathy | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 30ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered
Also branded with a small star tattoo beneath his left eye.
