Maeve
We'll never get free
Lamb to the slaughter
Lamb to the slaughter
She’s not met with words as she apologizes, but then again, words have never been Locke’s strong suit. He’s a man of action. He speaks fluently in movements and physical expressions. That’s his second language. Not the common tongue they all pretend to speak fluently. His kiss says everything his words don’t. ’I forgive you. I love you. It’s okay now. We’ll be okay.’ The action is simple. To most it wouldn’t mean anything, but to her it means the world. It means that they have a chance
Nails rake through his curls, gripping tightly at the hairs on the nape of his neck, forcing him to hold her gaze as a quiet growl echoes through her chest. ”Let them see.” She breathes darkly, hoping someone would, willing them to spread this truth the same wildfire way they do the rumors they all love to weave about her. His hands are scorching as they find their way beneath her skirt, searing into her flesh in a brand that reaches her bones, causing her to shiver in tandem with him. ”The queen wants you.” Maeve captures his lips in another kiss, licking into his mouth, encouraging him to let go and simply exist in this moment.
He doesn’t need much more than that, quickly drifting away from her mouth to kiss along her clavicle, leaving his mark on the gentle swell of her breasts that are offered to him from the neckline of her top. A part of her thinks that maybe they should be in a bed for this. Rediscover each other properly. Perhaps even in her office on the couch in front of the fireplace. Somewhere other than a moon bathed garden. Except her mind flashes to the first second time they had each other on the beach, soaked in moonlight and with so little understanding between them, but everything is different now.
The heat in her belly flares to life as his hips press up into hers, surprising her with the friction it brings, pulling a quiet moan past her lips. This had been how it happened the last time too. Maeve’s hands suddenly have a mind of their own, needing to feel his skin, tugging at his shirt until she gets the buttons apart to expose his chest. Smooth palms slide over her sides, up his torso, and across his chest as she brushes her thumbs over his nipples until they pebble beneath her attention.
Nails rake through his curls, gripping tightly at the hairs on the nape of his neck, forcing him to hold her gaze as a quiet growl echoes through her chest. ”Let them see.” She breathes darkly, hoping someone would, willing them to spread this truth the same wildfire way they do the rumors they all love to weave about her. His hands are scorching as they find their way beneath her skirt, searing into her flesh in a brand that reaches her bones, causing her to shiver in tandem with him. ”The queen wants you.” Maeve captures his lips in another kiss, licking into his mouth, encouraging him to let go and simply exist in this moment.
He doesn’t need much more than that, quickly drifting away from her mouth to kiss along her clavicle, leaving his mark on the gentle swell of her breasts that are offered to him from the neckline of her top. A part of her thinks that maybe they should be in a bed for this. Rediscover each other properly. Perhaps even in her office on the couch in front of the fireplace. Somewhere other than a moon bathed garden. Except her mind flashes to the first second time they had each other on the beach, soaked in moonlight and with so little understanding between them, but everything is different now.
The heat in her belly flares to life as his hips press up into hers, surprising her with the friction it brings, pulling a quiet moan past her lips. This had been how it happened the last time too. Maeve’s hands suddenly have a mind of their own, needing to feel his skin, tugging at his shirt until she gets the buttons apart to expose his chest. Smooth palms slide over her sides, up his torso, and across his chest as she brushes her thumbs over his nipples until they pebble beneath her attention.
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
