From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
For a moment Phoebe cackled, even as she ground her hips back against his hand. With but a touch he had collapsed, weight pressed against her - though thankfully the softness of the bed made up for the extra pressure. But as he came down from the sudden high he seemed to have cracked, voice husky and low, wasting no further time with foreplay.
One point for her.
A sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a soft shout broke through her lips at the sudden onslaught of his fingers curling inside her. She was barely ready for the sudden thrust of his hips as fingers were replaced with manhood, squirming and whimpering beneath him from the whiplash. Still she managed a small smirk at his grumbled words, a breathy laugh peppering his shoulder. "You think Frey spent all this time on me for me to be a *good girl*?" she said, hips bucking to meet his and clicking her tongue.
she sprouted love like flowers grew a garden in her mind
The shock of noise from her lips is only encouragement, fueling the fire that burns hot and out of control beneath his skin. It feels too good to scare him, though surely that will come later. Right now there is only the desire to be closer, to fuck, to please and be pleased. Base instinct and little else.
Clearly if she’s still capable of talking and sassing he isn’t doing enough. Blue eyes dark and swallowed by black pupils, Harper smiles down at her, edges sharp and promising. Grabbing her around the waist he pulls her up, biceps flexing as he falls backwards onto his back, hoisting her up to straddle him and spear her all the more fully on his cock. Scarred hands wrapping around her waist as he plants his feet into the bed and thrusts, watching her breasts bounce with the motion. “Bad girls have to do the work if they want to cum,” he purrs, squeezing her hips briefly before letting wandering hands slide further back to grip the pert swell of her ass.
Should he feel any regret or fear later over the intensity of his actions, she would be quick to soothe him. Despite her generally demure demeanor, Phoebe's preferences were much more rough when it came to sex. Whether that was Frey's influence or her own nature was yet to be determined, though she likely wasn't going to try - it was what it was and Harper knew how to deliver.
A little "EEP!" of surprise escaped her lips as he suddenly threw himself backwards, leaving her on her knees above him. The force it took to perform such a feat of strength - as if she weighed much - brought her slamming down on his cock and she threw her head back with a deep moan, eyes briefly rolling back as he thrust his hips upwards. Naturally she leaned forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady herself, still reeling from the unexpected change in position. His words just barely registered, but she managed a small grin. She had never been ontop before, but she was clever enough to figure out how it might work, rolling her hips forward and back again - shocking herself with the surges of pleasure each stroke caused.
she sprouted love like flowers grew a garden in her mind
Every sound, from startled to seductive, plays on his skin like a tangible thing. They've never tried this position before, and Harper laments not doing it sooner. She is a vision above him, and splendidly tight around him as well. Though some gentlemanly part of his brain feels wrong at not doing the work for them, it's swept away beneath something darker, something that growls with delight to see her stretched out above him, strong thighs bunching as she begins to rock forward and back.
Greedy hands take advantage of the freedom this position allows. Stroking up her thighs, squeezing at her hips to leave faint red imprints of his hands, tweaking at her nipples. One hand stays there to cup and squeeze just on the edge of too hard, while the other trails intently down her navel to press his thumb into her clit. Heavy exhales whistling through his nose, curly hair spread across the sheets as blue eyes stare up at her, slitted and appraising.
She wasn't certain what it was about the position that managed to elicit such pleasure, but she suddenly felt very silly for not having tried it sooner. Between rolling her hips at a steady, vigorous pace and his roaming hands, Phoebe found herself lost, head lolling back as the tension in her core began to build. She hardly registered the moans leaving her lips or the way her hands also roamed over his chest and torso - his build a more human mirror of the form Frey took whenever the god presented themselves to her.
Breath caught in her throat as his own hips rocked up, a strangled sound somewhere between a moan and his name a clear indicator that her own climax was fast approaching. The quickened, more frenzied pace of her hips would hint at it as well as her walls tightened around him further. The newness of the position and the speed at which he had started was now catching up with her, and with a loud moan and shudder she collapsed forward, braced against his chest as her hips bucked and shoulders twitched as her climax came crashing down upon her.
she sprouted love like flowers grew a garden in her mind
Neither of them would last long tonight. Her magic was incentive and conclusion in one, lingering in his bloodstream and burning the fuse shorter by the moment. Watching his marks appear on her skin in real time is a kick of possessive lust in his navel. She will wear the reminders of his touch even when he returns to Torchline and their beds must remain cold without the other to warm it.
Feet planted into the bed he helps them both along, timing with the way she rocks to thrust deeper into her, and when she tightens up in contractions around him he knows she’s close. He is moments behind her, holding her tight as she collapses down onto him and bucking his hips into her sensitive body to chase his own end. Broad chest swelling and lifting her with each haggard breath as he wraps her in his arms, Harper stares up at the ceiling in a daze even as he instinctively tilts to kiss her golden crown. “Love you Princess,” he murmurs, delayed sweetness to make up for the intensity of the start.
Phoebe hummed contentedly, easily curling in on herself as he wrapped his arms around her. The warm afterglow left her head cloudy and thoughts muddled, the rise and fall of his chest a steady rhythm that threatened to send her off to sleep well before she would normally.
But his words caught her attention as his lips pressed to her head. The Nightingale smiled and nuzzled her head beneath his chin. "Love you too, my Prince." she said softly, mimicking his pet name for her. She didn't call him that on any regular basis, but in the moment it worked - and before long she was lost to the realm of dreams, thoroughly worn out.
{END}
she sprouted love like flowers grew a garden in her mind
