Maeve
The choice has been made. A deal struck. He gently untangles her from her camisole and sweater, letting them fall to the floor beside the couch, baring her torso to the cool air of the room. Her skin flushes prettily, but he still doesn't touch her besides to draw her hands up his chest, bringing them to the buttons of his shirt and Maeve takes the direction easily. Deft fingers pop the buttons one after another, pushing the offending garment from his shoulders so the palms of her hands might run over his chest, smoothing across scars and freckles and tattoos. She wants so many things at once, mind tugged every which way, struggling to settle on one course of action.
He's there to guide her, though. His nose brushes against hers, words purring against her lips as calloused hands trail over her sides again, long fingers curling into the waistband of her pants. "Please.." It's the only word she seems to know anymore, but others soon follow it much to her surprise. "I need it.. need you." The Flood is agonizingly slow with these movements, keeping her on edge and wanting, not allowing her to fall just yet. Finally he claims her lips in a kiss, pressing flush against her and she could sob with relief, the sensation of his lips on hers overwhelming in itself.
Sunjata moves them this way and that, finding a resting place that's comfortable for both of them and in seconds she's left bare above him save for her socks. She's never been more thankful for the way he takes control and overwhelms her, filling her head with the sensation of his kisses and hands instead of the thoughts that have plagued her for days now. A whimper rises in her throat, pressing into his mouth as she deepens the kiss, nails biting into his shoulders in a vain attempt to ground herself as her hips rock minutely against the hard line of his cock that she can feel pressing through his pants.
"Jata.." She hisses against his lips, arching into him eagerly as she melts for him. Soft, willing, and pliant. Their flushed skin seeming to burn everywhere they're touching, encouraging that heat in her belly to spread through the resr of her, scorching her up from the inside lot.
He's there to guide her, though. His nose brushes against hers, words purring against her lips as calloused hands trail over her sides again, long fingers curling into the waistband of her pants. "Please.." It's the only word she seems to know anymore, but others soon follow it much to her surprise. "I need it.. need you." The Flood is agonizingly slow with these movements, keeping her on edge and wanting, not allowing her to fall just yet. Finally he claims her lips in a kiss, pressing flush against her and she could sob with relief, the sensation of his lips on hers overwhelming in itself.
Sunjata moves them this way and that, finding a resting place that's comfortable for both of them and in seconds she's left bare above him save for her socks. She's never been more thankful for the way he takes control and overwhelms her, filling her head with the sensation of his kisses and hands instead of the thoughts that have plagued her for days now. A whimper rises in her throat, pressing into his mouth as she deepens the kiss, nails biting into his shoulders in a vain attempt to ground herself as her hips rock minutely against the hard line of his cock that she can feel pressing through his pants.
"Jata.." She hisses against his lips, arching into him eagerly as she melts for him. Soft, willing, and pliant. Their flushed skin seeming to burn everywhere they're touching, encouraging that heat in her belly to spread through the resr of her, scorching her up from the inside lot.
NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS
