LOCKE
Her words thrum through him, making him heady with desire. The rational part of his brain wills him away, reminds him how dangerous this all is. But listening to that part of his brain has only lead to pain and confusion. He pushes it down, letting the overwhelming flame engulf him. One hand comes up, sliding along her neck to push her dress to the side so he can mark her better. "Does she?" He rumbles against her skin, "I suppose I can't deny my Queen, can I?"
Some part of him is begging her to take over, to almost force him into this. To take away some part of his liability in all of it. He leans back a bit, letting her tug his shirt open. Hey, those tattoos he was going show her when they weren't not flirting with each other. A snake coiling from his right wrist up to his chest, snaking its away across his pectoral. On the other side, a large jaguar. He shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off, ignoring how cold the night air is.
"Not too on the nose, is it?" He says almost shyly. It had felt like a good idea at the time, painful and permanent, just like she was. The hand tucked into her hair slips down further, skimming over her dress to pull it out of the way before reaching between them. He presses his hand against her cunt, finding it all too easily despite how long it's been. It's like swimming after a decade of not doing it, it takes him a moment of fumbling but it comes to him quickly enough.
As much as he'd like to take it slow, rediscover her body, he's feeling a bit frantic. Hopefully she understands.
Some part of him is begging her to take over, to almost force him into this. To take away some part of his liability in all of it. He leans back a bit, letting her tug his shirt open. Hey, those tattoos he was going show her when they weren't not flirting with each other. A snake coiling from his right wrist up to his chest, snaking its away across his pectoral. On the other side, a large jaguar. He shrugs his shirt the rest of the way off, ignoring how cold the night air is.
"Not too on the nose, is it?" He says almost shyly. It had felt like a good idea at the time, painful and permanent, just like she was. The hand tucked into her hair slips down further, skimming over her dress to pull it out of the way before reaching between them. He presses his hand against her cunt, finding it all too easily despite how long it's been. It's like swimming after a decade of not doing it, it takes him a moment of fumbling but it comes to him quickly enough.
As much as he'd like to take it slow, rediscover her body, he's feeling a bit frantic. Hopefully she understands.
Help me make the most of freedom
And of pleasure
And of pleasure
