Maeve
There is a tense moment of silence, leaving Maeve waiting for a response from him, some confirmation that he heard her response and believes it to be true. It doesn't come in the form of words, but a tender kiss pressed into that sensitive spot just beneath her ear, earning him a soft sigh as her head tilts to expose more of her throat to him. The pressure of his hand around her neck disappears as he draws back from her, gazing burning as he rakes it over her, taking in the disheveled state he's left her in. Her breath catches in her throat as he surges forward, tongue tracing the dip of her cleavage, running over her skin and tasting the salt that clings there. He's gone just as soon as he came, drawing his hand from between her thighs, a whimper pushing past her lips at being denied, "Locke.." The plea is pitiful, high pitched and needy even as she watches him take his fingers into his mouth, licking her slick from them languidly.
He stands and she moves to follow him, hands slipping from his shoulders to his waist, bracing herself there as she makes to stand. It only takes him moments to crowd back into her space, keeping her pinned against the trunk of the tree as he palms the length of his cock, fingers slipping gently into her hair. Maeve presses into his touch, arching and rubbing against his hand like a cat finally getting the attention they've been begging for. Her eyes flick up to his, pupils blown wide and swallowing the soft green of her irises as she licks her lips, nodding in response to his question. Pressing her thumb against the jut of his hip, Maeve's lips part and she leans forward, letting the tip of her tongue dart out to lick at the head of his cock. It's light and teasing, not committing to the act of it yet as she gazes up at him almost coquettishly, lashes fluttering as she commits more fully.
With him still holding himself in his palm it's easy to swirl her tongue around the tip, pressing the flat of it to his glans before drawing him into his mouth, suckling lightly before she's bobbing forward. A soft moan rises in her throat, vibrating around him as she draws him deeper into her mouth, not waiting for him to press forward.
He stands and she moves to follow him, hands slipping from his shoulders to his waist, bracing herself there as she makes to stand. It only takes him moments to crowd back into her space, keeping her pinned against the trunk of the tree as he palms the length of his cock, fingers slipping gently into her hair. Maeve presses into his touch, arching and rubbing against his hand like a cat finally getting the attention they've been begging for. Her eyes flick up to his, pupils blown wide and swallowing the soft green of her irises as she licks her lips, nodding in response to his question. Pressing her thumb against the jut of his hip, Maeve's lips part and she leans forward, letting the tip of her tongue dart out to lick at the head of his cock. It's light and teasing, not committing to the act of it yet as she gazes up at him almost coquettishly, lashes fluttering as she commits more fully.
With him still holding himself in his palm it's easy to swirl her tongue around the tip, pressing the flat of it to his glans before drawing him into his mouth, suckling lightly before she's bobbing forward. A soft moan rises in her throat, vibrating around him as she draws him deeper into her mouth, not waiting for him to press forward.
But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush
