// not yet corpses, still we rot //
Her moan is like music to his ears, and of course it’s paired with the beautiful sensation of sinking inside her, shivering and shuddering as he gets used to the feel of her. Luckily for him he runs off of instinct more than the white noise in his brain, thoughts blanking out but working in combination with her as her legs wrap around his waist and work with him to pick some sort of rhythm at first that evens out into something greedy and needy, no room to draw it out further.
Especially not when she’s got her hands in his hair, tugging this way and that, guiding him with her words and the shift of her hips. Varus is greedy, and he hasn’t done this too often (obviously the few centuries shut down will make him rusty regardless), but he does manage to increase the pace, something more feral and greedy overcoming him as he dives forward, lips pressed to the soft patch of skin beneath her ear. “Gods, Isla—” He groans, that edge coming closer and closer until he thinks he’s just a fraction away from slipping over, holding off the best he can go suck in a silvery mark to her neck.
Especially not when she’s got her hands in his hair, tugging this way and that, guiding him with her words and the shift of her hips. Varus is greedy, and he hasn’t done this too often (obviously the few centuries shut down will make him rusty regardless), but he does manage to increase the pace, something more feral and greedy overcoming him as he dives forward, lips pressed to the soft patch of skin beneath her ear. “Gods, Isla—” He groans, that edge coming closer and closer until he thinks he’s just a fraction away from slipping over, holding off the best he can go suck in a silvery mark to her neck.
VARUS
