Hotaru
It is so nice to be touched again. It feels as if it has been forever, though it’s only been a season. She is not porcelain or fine china, to be put up on a shelf and only observed from afar. Beautiful Hotaru may be, she has been starved of physical affection nearly from the moment she was born, and the bliss that crosses her expression is a vulnerable and raw thing as Maeve’s fingers card through her blonde hair. She seems to remember herself a moment later, expression shuttering a little further even as she laughs, breath ghosting over Maeve’s skin.
“High praise from the esteemed Madame,” she teases back, though her eyes seem to glow with smug pride not unlike a mischievous cat’s. The preening into the woman’s nails is similar, eyes half-lidded as she leans into the damp kiss. Honestly, she wouldn’t be bothered to not get off herself if this was her reward. But after hearing that someone else had turned Maeve down, well...
Her breath leaves her as Maeve flips them, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Well now, that certainly seals the deal. Hotaru has grown accustomed to taking the lead even with men, but as a woman obsessed with control, giving it up is a sexual high she can’t turn down. “I’d like that,” and her voice comes out a little breathy, her own hands moving to drape around Maeve’s neck, fingertips tracing the knob of her spine, incapable of remaining still ever in her life.
“High praise from the esteemed Madame,” she teases back, though her eyes seem to glow with smug pride not unlike a mischievous cat’s. The preening into the woman’s nails is similar, eyes half-lidded as she leans into the damp kiss. Honestly, she wouldn’t be bothered to not get off herself if this was her reward. But after hearing that someone else had turned Maeve down, well...
Her breath leaves her as Maeve flips them, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Well now, that certainly seals the deal. Hotaru has grown accustomed to taking the lead even with men, but as a woman obsessed with control, giving it up is a sexual high she can’t turn down. “I’d like that,” and her voice comes out a little breathy, her own hands moving to drape around Maeve’s neck, fingertips tracing the knob of her spine, incapable of remaining still ever in her life.
soak me in your moonshine
and fuck me on fire
and fuck me on fire
