Maeve
It's agony the way he makes her suffer in the thick of her need, everything in her aching for him in a way she can't even put words to, knowing whatever she tried to say would fall short. Her cunt, her heart, her very soul. All of it yearns for him, urging her to reach and tug and pull until he gives in, until he becomes one with her in a way no one ever has. There are others who fill her mind, who tease at her heart, but only one person really has it. Locke has it and doesn't even know it. Maeve doesn't even realize it herself. That no one will compare for her right now. Not Sunjata or Aurelia or Hotaru. None of them have taken care of her like he has. No one will ever come close. It's a heady thing that she can't unwrap or unwind, tangled up in her chest and around her heart, tying her to him in ways she can't even fathom.
"Just tell me what you want... Please, Baby. Let me try." She whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as she writhes, hips rocking up towards his mouth even as he leaves another bite at her hip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. It's cruel. Maeve is close to crying, begging, and wailing just so he does something instead of keeping her so on edge she's shaking. Maeve keens high in her throat, pitiful and needy, cunt clenching around nothing as he finally dips down and his words wash over her. She takes a shaky breath, filling her lungs partially, preparing to do just that until his tongue swipes across her folds. Maeve jerks, hips shooting off the blankets as the fingers in his hair tighten, nails biting into his shoulder as she cries out.
Whatever argument that had been in her head before disappears without a second thought, the only thing she can focus on is the heat of his tongue and his fingers curling at her hips, holding her in place as she squirms. It's impossible to stay still, hips rocking up against his mouth, grinding against his tongue to chase that edge that he's been inching her towards for the last half hour. Maeve doesn't care if she's desperate and needy. She doesn't care if it makes her look weak to need him so much. She doesn't care at all. Not when there is heat in her belly and his mouth between her legs.
"Just tell me what you want... Please, Baby. Let me try." She whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as she writhes, hips rocking up towards his mouth even as he leaves another bite at her hip before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. It's cruel. Maeve is close to crying, begging, and wailing just so he does something instead of keeping her so on edge she's shaking. Maeve keens high in her throat, pitiful and needy, cunt clenching around nothing as he finally dips down and his words wash over her. She takes a shaky breath, filling her lungs partially, preparing to do just that until his tongue swipes across her folds. Maeve jerks, hips shooting off the blankets as the fingers in his hair tighten, nails biting into his shoulder as she cries out.
Whatever argument that had been in her head before disappears without a second thought, the only thing she can focus on is the heat of his tongue and his fingers curling at her hips, holding her in place as she squirms. It's impossible to stay still, hips rocking up against his mouth, grinding against his tongue to chase that edge that he's been inching her towards for the last half hour. Maeve doesn't care if she's desperate and needy. She doesn't care if it makes her look weak to need him so much. She doesn't care at all. Not when there is heat in her belly and his mouth between her legs.
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
