[ There is a darkness to him, beyond just the intricacies of his power — she can see it there, in what turns his smile slightly less than charming. Somehow it isn't enough to successfully drive her away; if nothing else, it had only proven to earn more of her curiosity, and along that duration had been their game, the stakes escalating each time, neither of them willing to surrender to the other first. Without even realizing it, they've rendered this a stalemate too, especially when it feels impossible for her to discern which one of them has been the first to initiate.
Perhaps it was always building to the moment when she would have him sliding down the length of her body, perfectly content to serve her need as well as his own from this position. Yet somehow she doesn't feel as though she's lost or won; there is no victory to be claimed here, just his touch, almost reverent in its exploration. ]
Not this time.
[ She's under no illusions that there won't be pain, or suffering, or one of them won't find a means of hurting the other someday. That's just what happens, what has always happened, and she has no reason to believe it will transpire any differently now. But that doesn't mean they won't find pleasure in the interim, either.
He lowers his head between her thighs, pairing the thrusts of a single finger with the lashing of his tongue, and she gasps toward the hovering shadows, fills the room with her moan. It even seems filthier, somehow, in the darkness, the slick sounds amplified without the station's normal hum of power to cancel them out — but she strains toward him, needing, wanting, and unafraid of asking for it besides. ]
More. [ His fingers are thicker than hers, she thinks, and that's why she'll demand at least two. ]
no subject
Perhaps it was always building to the moment when she would have him sliding down the length of her body, perfectly content to serve her need as well as his own from this position. Yet somehow she doesn't feel as though she's lost or won; there is no victory to be claimed here, just his touch, almost reverent in its exploration. ]
Not this time.
[ She's under no illusions that there won't be pain, or suffering, or one of them won't find a means of hurting the other someday. That's just what happens, what has always happened, and she has no reason to believe it will transpire any differently now. But that doesn't mean they won't find pleasure in the interim, either.
He lowers his head between her thighs, pairing the thrusts of a single finger with the lashing of his tongue, and she gasps toward the hovering shadows, fills the room with her moan. It even seems filthier, somehow, in the darkness, the slick sounds amplified without the station's normal hum of power to cancel them out — but she strains toward him, needing, wanting, and unafraid of asking for it besides. ]
More. [ His fingers are thicker than hers, she thinks, and that's why she'll demand at least two. ]