Evie
Foreplay has its place, and Deimos' rapacious desire to tease and twist her into knots is usually the equivalent, even when he scarcely touches her. It usually leads to moments exactly like this; Evie begging, pleading, craving for more and rushing to get him inside her, skipping any merits that might come from the use of his truly talented hands. Evie has never worried about that though. Deimos ensures she remembers the virtues of his other appendages often enough to balance the scales.
But today - whether it's the location, weather, or happenstance - Evie wins this particular round. As she watches his hand dip lower and fall away from her folds, surely conjuring protection in a familiar motion that shouldn't be hot by itself but decidedly is every time, Evie shamelessly congratulates herself - and then loses all manner of train of thought as he slides inside, stealing her breath on a long, slow whine.
Her arms come up to cling and envelop as Deimos' mouth presses into her neck, legs squeezing around his hips. "Deimos," she invokes like a prayer, skin burning hotter than the springs could ever hope to achieve. Never one to simply lay passive, she undulates her hips against his, using what little leverage and strength in her thighs she has to work herself upon him in a shameless display of her impatience and need. Now that she has him where she wants him there should be no need for restlessness, but this is no realm for slow and sweet lovemaking, and so she embraces that recklessness wholeheartedly.
But today - whether it's the location, weather, or happenstance - Evie wins this particular round. As she watches his hand dip lower and fall away from her folds, surely conjuring protection in a familiar motion that shouldn't be hot by itself but decidedly is every time, Evie shamelessly congratulates herself - and then loses all manner of train of thought as he slides inside, stealing her breath on a long, slow whine.
Her arms come up to cling and envelop as Deimos' mouth presses into her neck, legs squeezing around his hips. "Deimos," she invokes like a prayer, skin burning hotter than the springs could ever hope to achieve. Never one to simply lay passive, she undulates her hips against his, using what little leverage and strength in her thighs she has to work herself upon him in a shameless display of her impatience and need. Now that she has him where she wants him there should be no need for restlessness, but this is no realm for slow and sweet lovemaking, and so she embraces that recklessness wholeheartedly.
Cover your crystal eyes
And let your colors bleed and blend with mine
And let your colors bleed and blend with mine
