Maeve
She nods quickly as their lips reconnect, hands greedily running over the newly exposed skin of his chest, palms rasping across his nipples before her nails draws lines down his chest, leaving trails of red in their wake. Of course she does. She's already told him as much, but he seems intent to push. To break her to pieces bit by bit until he can assembly her once more. A broken china doll in desperate need of someone with the patience to do the work. Sunjata seems to be the one up for the task.
He's not going to make it easy for her, though. No. She's going to have to surrender and let go. It's what she wanted, wasn't it? A distraction? To forget for a time being? This is more than good enough. As cruel as his ministrations are, refusing to give into her right away, driving her higher towards her breaking point instead. Everything about her burns right now, aching for release, for his touch, his voice, his kiss. He takes an ounce of pity on her, reaching up to cup her breasts, hands easily covering them both as his thumbs tease across her nipples in a way that makes her arch. Lashes flutter across cheekbones and she forces her eyes open, pupils blown wide as she meets his smoldering gaze, the ache between her thighs flaring at the intensity of it.
It has been a while. More than a season since she had him like this and it's the kind of drug she needs right now. She just needs to get well tonight so she can push through the rest of it. So she can focus on herself and the things she has planned.
Maeve barely notices through the haze of lust clouding her brain and if she did really notice, she doesn't have it in herself to care. Not about Nate or Locke or any of it. All there is is this. The Madame whines again, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, catching it so hard she might make it bleed. Another nod, another gasp of breath as she squirms in his lap, trying desperately to find her voice. She did miss him in a way that Maeve doesn't really want to admit, but that's in the past now. She's still willing to play the part for him, to beg, simper, and plead if it means he'll indulge her. "Missed you so much..."
He's not going to make it easy for her, though. No. She's going to have to surrender and let go. It's what she wanted, wasn't it? A distraction? To forget for a time being? This is more than good enough. As cruel as his ministrations are, refusing to give into her right away, driving her higher towards her breaking point instead. Everything about her burns right now, aching for release, for his touch, his voice, his kiss. He takes an ounce of pity on her, reaching up to cup her breasts, hands easily covering them both as his thumbs tease across her nipples in a way that makes her arch. Lashes flutter across cheekbones and she forces her eyes open, pupils blown wide as she meets his smoldering gaze, the ache between her thighs flaring at the intensity of it.
It has been a while. More than a season since she had him like this and it's the kind of drug she needs right now. She just needs to get well tonight so she can push through the rest of it. So she can focus on herself and the things she has planned.
Maeve barely notices through the haze of lust clouding her brain and if she did really notice, she doesn't have it in herself to care. Not about Nate or Locke or any of it. All there is is this. The Madame whines again, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, catching it so hard she might make it bleed. Another nod, another gasp of breath as she squirms in his lap, trying desperately to find her voice. She did miss him in a way that Maeve doesn't really want to admit, but that's in the past now. She's still willing to play the part for him, to beg, simper, and plead if it means he'll indulge her. "Missed you so much..."
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
