VARUS
The second bite is electrifying, like lightning zipping through his systems just like the ones she’d displayed – offered as part of the bargain between them. He hums, a moan pressed against her shoulder, his hand continuing its strokes until she’s doubled over and he’s forced to pull away. Her fingers that dig into his shoulders are a far away sensation – something that his sensors tell him are there but he barely registers.
He sucks down a sharp breath he doesn’t need, trying to continue to spur her on, a silver flush edging with pink as her blood slips through his systems, coat his cheeks and his neck, and should he need to breathe he’s sure he’d be panting. But he doesn’t, and so he tries to regain some semblance of mind, his fingers deftly working to bring her to that edge, to bring her over it, before he can depart for the Grounds once again.
He sucks down a sharp breath he doesn’t need, trying to continue to spur her on, a silver flush edging with pink as her blood slips through his systems, coat his cheeks and his neck, and should he need to breathe he’s sure he’d be panting. But he doesn’t, and so he tries to regain some semblance of mind, his fingers deftly working to bring her to that edge, to bring her over it, before he can depart for the Grounds once again.
stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds
