let our music play

Hotaru

Words seem so meaningless with the faint touch of Maeve’s fingertip at the precipice of her sex, any notion of response swallowed thickly with the pool of saliva that suddenly wets her mouth. She may normally take control of her partners, but a change of pace might be exactly what she needs to wipe all comparisons to other people, other moments like this. Even Varus had been to similar, too familiar. But Maeve? She stands apart in her uniqueness, from gender to appearance, and for once Hotaru relaxes into the fur at her back and lets herself forget.

The vow makes her breath catch, moments before pressure is introduced and forcing the air right back out of her lungs in a keening noise at the back of her throat like one makes when having a particularly good stretch. Runner’s legs pull halfway up in an aborted movement before deciding to only hook one around Maeve’s hip to pull her closer. It had the added benefit of opening up her pelvis more, practically flowering beneath the Madame’s inquisitive touch to her entrance. “Yes,” she gasps encouragingly, long hair spilling like molten gold across the rug, aching to be filled after so long feeling horrifically empty. Her other hand searches for Maeve’s free one, tangling their fingers together intimately as she squeezes hard.

soak me in your moonshine
and fuck me on fire