‘We’ll get there’ feels ominous, it feels intolerable in her current state, but it’s chased by the satisfaction of his shiver (impossible to miss as pressed together as they are). His bite is vicious and she squirms again, fucking herself further down on his third finger and nearly yelping at the sensation. Three fingers is more than enough to feel the sensation of a stretch, and her nails bite into his scalp as she rolls her hips up to adjust the angle of his thumb against her clit.
It shouldn’t be enough. Under normal circumstances, it’d be too much to be comfortable — too fast, too rough, too … just too much. But whatever is coursing through her, to the heat that threatens to burn her alive, it’s just enough —
She comes hard enough that her vision goes grey for a moment, stiffening to buck against his hand and pulling his hair with no regard for any pain she might be causing him. It’s at that moment or a millisecond before that his teeth close on the erogenous zone of her neck and she half-whimpers, half-shouts a release, body shivering into a more relaxed pose before twitching as she clenches around his fingers in aftershocks. At least she has the presence of mind to keep her opposite hand mostly relaxed, though her strokes pause at the tip of him, momentarily distracted by the sensation of pleasure running up her spine.
Fuck. It shouldn’t be possible, not from his fingers alone. She’s never felt anything like that — and she’d rather die than tell him so.
Oops. Die again. Right.
Panting, she palms him harder, strokes reaching a frenzy up and down his cock. She doesn’t want him to think he’s won; not when she can tell how he wants her in how his hips press into her hand, in the way he nuzzles up against her skin and sighs in her ear.
no subject
It shouldn’t be enough. Under normal circumstances, it’d be too much to be comfortable — too fast, too rough, too … just too much. But whatever is coursing through her, to the heat that threatens to burn her alive, it’s just enough —
She comes hard enough that her vision goes grey for a moment, stiffening to buck against his hand and pulling his hair with no regard for any pain she might be causing him. It’s at that moment or a millisecond before that his teeth close on the erogenous zone of her neck and she half-whimpers, half-shouts a release, body shivering into a more relaxed pose before twitching as she clenches around his fingers in aftershocks. At least she has the presence of mind to keep her opposite hand mostly relaxed, though her strokes pause at the tip of him, momentarily distracted by the sensation of pleasure running up her spine.
Fuck. It shouldn’t be possible, not from his fingers alone. She’s never felt anything like that — and she’d rather die than tell him so.
Oops. Die again. Right.
Panting, she palms him harder, strokes reaching a frenzy up and down his cock. She doesn’t want him to think he’s won; not when she can tell how he wants her in how his hips press into her hand, in the way he nuzzles up against her skin and sighs in her ear.