when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
Isla doesn't expect the fierce smile she feels spread across her face at hearing him gasp, the way her chin tilts up as if to challenge more, invite more of him. It's a dance of primal need between them, and though Remi is by far the stronger, the more brutal, Isla seizes whatever moments of dominance that she can grasp - and right now, that's in the way she squeezes the hard length of his cock. Only as Remi pushes himself away does she release him, snatching in the sight of him through quick glances that have her tongue running across her teeth.
Then he's scooping her up into his arms and her mouth is on his before he can try to speak further. Hopefully he can navigate the way to the bed while occupied, because Isla's arm slips around his neck, her tongue pressing against his with needy enthusiasm, eager to taste herself on his lips. There is, of course, zero conflict in the Ascended's mind. She has been a part of Remi for longer, it feels, than she has been her own self, and she knows the scars on his soul as if she'd put them there herself.
Put simply, even though there's a faint pulse of logic within her that's asking why this is happening now, Isla understands Remi far too much not to be swept along in his wake. She doesn't want to be smart or sensible. She wants to be fucked.
"Take me," she all but begs, fingertips leaving delicate streaks of red across his shoulders where she breaks the skin.
Then he's scooping her up into his arms and her mouth is on his before he can try to speak further. Hopefully he can navigate the way to the bed while occupied, because Isla's arm slips around his neck, her tongue pressing against his with needy enthusiasm, eager to taste herself on his lips. There is, of course, zero conflict in the Ascended's mind. She has been a part of Remi for longer, it feels, than she has been her own self, and she knows the scars on his soul as if she'd put them there herself.
Put simply, even though there's a faint pulse of logic within her that's asking why this is happening now, Isla understands Remi far too much not to be swept along in his wake. She doesn't want to be smart or sensible. She wants to be fucked.
"Take me," she all but begs, fingertips leaving delicate streaks of red across his shoulders where she breaks the skin.
i could die
Isla
