Morgan's words are a exquisite sort of torture, and as he locks eyes with her it's all Neron can do not to abandon himself completely. She pulls him closer with strong legs and he hitches in a breath entirely on impulse; her gaze is almost molten, and he wishes he could describe to her exactly how she looks right now, spread and wanton and quietly authoritative. "You have no idea," he mumbles, his head dropping to nip at her neck without breaking the skin.
She's about to find out, though, the Ascended shifting to anchor himself better against her, the movement of his hips growing faster and more urgent. Heat and pleasure thrums through him, Neron groaning against her, and without thinking he finally indulges himself, his teeth slipping into her flesh and fresh ecstasy flooding his veins.
