Maeve
It's a strange game they're playing. None of this is like the last time they were together. Last time they were equals, both seeking a distraction and a relief from the pain, but this time he's the one in control. Maeve begged him for this and he's giving her what she wants on his terms. It shouldn't be so heady or thrilling, but it takes her all the higher. She's not the one in control right now. It's what she wanted. To forget. To be distracted. To be torn to pieces and put back together all over again.
He helps her in his own way, wings curling around her backs and at her hips, supporting her as she grinds against her fingers. It's not enough, but she chases it anyway. The sparks of pleasure it sends skittering over her nerves enough to keep her on edge. Maeve lets out a sound of indignation when he still sher head, fingers pressing to the back of her skull as his thumb finds the line of her jaw, holding her in place so he can take her mouth with a few thrusts of his own. Her chest is heaving, ragged breaths sucked in through her nose, heat suffusing her cheeks as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes. A warmth spreads through her chest, seeing the approval in his steel slit gaze, preening for him as she takes him deeper into her mouth.
Almost gentle fingers card through her hair, pushing it back from her face in a tender motion, watching her through heavy lidded eyes. She can feel how he tenses up. The jump and flex in the muscles of his thighs, the way he twitches on her tongue, already so close to his release. Maeve doesn't want to deny him. Not when she hasn't cum yet. Gods, please don't let this be over after this. It's the only thought that runs through her head as she picks up speed, intent on drawing him over the edge for her, needing to taste him.
He helps her in his own way, wings curling around her backs and at her hips, supporting her as she grinds against her fingers. It's not enough, but she chases it anyway. The sparks of pleasure it sends skittering over her nerves enough to keep her on edge. Maeve lets out a sound of indignation when he still sher head, fingers pressing to the back of her skull as his thumb finds the line of her jaw, holding her in place so he can take her mouth with a few thrusts of his own. Her chest is heaving, ragged breaths sucked in through her nose, heat suffusing her cheeks as she looks up at him from beneath her lashes. A warmth spreads through her chest, seeing the approval in his steel slit gaze, preening for him as she takes him deeper into her mouth.
Almost gentle fingers card through her hair, pushing it back from her face in a tender motion, watching her through heavy lidded eyes. She can feel how he tenses up. The jump and flex in the muscles of his thighs, the way he twitches on her tongue, already so close to his release. Maeve doesn't want to deny him. Not when she hasn't cum yet. Gods, please don't let this be over after this. It's the only thought that runs through her head as she picks up speed, intent on drawing him over the edge for her, needing to taste him.
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
