Seraphina
the artificer
i'm not a slave, i won't be guided to a grave in
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
A sharp intake of breath is taken as Sera hears his comment, humming a sound of agreement from her throat along with the rest of the higher pitched sounds that leave her with each of his thrusts. She doesn’t think she’ll last long either, not as the water begins to run colder and he seems to press all the buttons she wants him to. Her hands roam along his skin, teeth sinking into where his neck and shoulder meet, leaving a small red mark behind that might bruise before she’s kissing it tenderly.
He readjusts her and she takes a sharp breath again as her back presses against the cold wall of the shower. He thrusts deeper into her and she tightens around him, her back arching a fraction, pressing her breasts against him with each and every bounce of her body with his. Her fingers tangle into his hair and she feels that edge approaching, feels herself beginning to fall apart, and before she does she presses her hips back against him in his grip. “Locke…” She whines, unable to finish her thought as she breaks, legs trembling, her cry of a moan leaving her as she shudders and trembles.
He readjusts her and she takes a sharp breath again as her back presses against the cold wall of the shower. He thrusts deeper into her and she tightens around him, her back arching a fraction, pressing her breasts against him with each and every bounce of her body with his. Her fingers tangle into his hair and she feels that edge approaching, feels herself beginning to fall apart, and before she does she presses her hips back against him in his grip. “Locke…” She whines, unable to finish her thought as she breaks, legs trembling, her cry of a moan leaving her as she shudders and trembles.
you got it out for me, like strangers in the night
holding close their sharpened knives
holding close their sharpened knives
