(SE) i like your voice

MAEVE

It was agony of the most perfect kind. To be so close to the edge to only be denied. She hated and loved her for it. That would have been bad enough on it's own, but then Aurelia denies her the pleasure of touching her too. Maeve makes a displeased sound in the back of her throat, brows drawing together even as pleasure continues to make her squirm. "Why not? I want to touch you," she pants, voice pitching up higher into a whine that gives away her desperation.

Of course the smuggler has other plans for her. Instead of continuing to drive her towards the peak, she draws back. A noise of indignation comes from her as the woman shifts her further up the bed and she's about to open her mouth to complain further, but she's silence by a bite to her thigh. Her eyes flutter shut and she arches as pain mixes with the pleasure in a heady concoction. Aurelia is all consuming. In her attention and focus she doesn't waver. Maeve is simply caught up in her attentions with no desire to escape.

Her hand finds Aurelia's hair, grabbing a handful of curls to ground herself as she's exposed to the other woman. Maeve feels her cheeks flush with new heat and she squirms as her lover pins her with her gaze. It's real and raw and almost overwhelming to have her look at her like that. Aurelia holds her gaze as she dips her head down to finally taste her.

There is a moment where her breath catches in anticipation and her fidgeting stops. A giddiness settles in with the realization that this is their first time and just how special that is. How special she is. The moan that pushes past her lips is loud and unashamed as her back arches to press harder against her mouth. She's done this before. It's clear in the way her fingers press in and search, finding that sweet spot that's so often neglected. When she does finally find it, Maeve jerks, thighs spasming around as the smuggler keeps her pinned like a butterfly under glass.

A pretty face
Doesn't mean a pretty heart