Maeve
He does. It's not even a question. Every little thing he does only drives her closer to the precipice of her release, making her tremble, whimpers and moans on her lips mingling with his broken name. It's nothing but feeling. Pure, raw, and real. She's lost in the sea of it, being dragged further and further away from shore, head barely above water. Maeve clings to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, trying desperately to keep him close even as he pulls back to look down at her as she slowly falls apart for him bit by bit.
How uncomplicated it was back then. When she wasn't so concerned with hurting feelings because there were no feelings. When it was just them and their bodies lost in the pleasure of each other. Now their hearts are in it too, tangled up and knotted together, unable to be separated unless by force. Perhaps it would have been easier to stay that way, but neither would have been satisfied. It's a hard truth to swallow, a delicate balance to walk, but fuck if she isn't trying for him. She wants him so badly it hurts.
Maeve manages to open her eyes to focus on him as he pins her hands above her head, stretching her out as he continues to fuck into her, hips stuttering for only a moment as he adjusts to the deeper angle. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted as she draws in greedy sips of air, locking eyes with him and the green of her gaze is swallowed up by the dark need that swirls there instead. Gods, she doesn't want him to stop either. Not now not ever. "Don't stop..." It's a whispered plea as she arches and whines beneath him, whole body tensing as her thighs begin to tremble, cunt fluttering around him with the start of her orgasm. Maeve falls apart so beautifully for him, his name caught on her lips, coating her tongue like the sweetest wine as she shatters beneath him.
How uncomplicated it was back then. When she wasn't so concerned with hurting feelings because there were no feelings. When it was just them and their bodies lost in the pleasure of each other. Now their hearts are in it too, tangled up and knotted together, unable to be separated unless by force. Perhaps it would have been easier to stay that way, but neither would have been satisfied. It's a hard truth to swallow, a delicate balance to walk, but fuck if she isn't trying for him. She wants him so badly it hurts.
Maeve manages to open her eyes to focus on him as he pins her hands above her head, stretching her out as he continues to fuck into her, hips stuttering for only a moment as he adjusts to the deeper angle. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted as she draws in greedy sips of air, locking eyes with him and the green of her gaze is swallowed up by the dark need that swirls there instead. Gods, she doesn't want him to stop either. Not now not ever. "Don't stop..." It's a whispered plea as she arches and whines beneath him, whole body tensing as her thighs begin to tremble, cunt fluttering around him with the start of her orgasm. Maeve falls apart so beautifully for him, his name caught on her lips, coating her tongue like the sweetest wine as she shatters beneath him.
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
