Amusement colors his voice beyond pure lust, a kind of rolling wave breaking the shores of all current tension, wound up in how he teases himself against tightness so blissfully sweet that it maddens even his own senses. Fiercely sparking a fresher wave of dizzying want, boiling in his blood as sweetly as the wine he’d —stolen— borrowed.
“Addicted as you are to feeling me right to the hilt, and...” it’s a soft pause, breath hitching just within the base of his chest somewhere beneath his ribs, the iron tang of blood (and magic) singing as it slides across his tongue. “You think I didn’t expect this?”
Tsk.
Soft. Coy.
Cloying as honey, his voice, and he fits it directly to Fenris’ ear.
“Darling, don’t make me laugh.”
Even trapped in that grip, he’s purring. Tucked against the brink of penetration and—
It doesn’t take much. A single buck of his hips, wild in its make, and he plunges in without warning: nestling deep and feverishly tight, buried to the point that his vision flecks with stars, and a rolling groan slips past sharp teeth.
(And from there, it’s all a matter of squeezing in closer, canting second by second into a filthier rhythm.)
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Amusement colors his voice beyond pure lust, a kind of rolling wave breaking the shores of all current tension, wound up in how he teases himself against tightness so blissfully sweet that it maddens even his own senses. Fiercely sparking a fresher wave of dizzying want, boiling in his blood as sweetly as the wine he’d —stolen— borrowed.
“Addicted as you are to feeling me right to the hilt, and...” it’s a soft pause, breath hitching just within the base of his chest somewhere beneath his ribs, the iron tang of blood (and magic) singing as it slides across his tongue. “You think I didn’t expect this?”
Tsk.
Soft. Coy.
Cloying as honey, his voice, and he fits it directly to Fenris’ ear.
“Darling, don’t make me laugh.”
Even trapped in that grip, he’s purring. Tucked against the brink of penetration and—
It doesn’t take much. A single buck of his hips, wild in its make, and he plunges in without warning: nestling deep and feverishly tight, buried to the point that his vision flecks with stars, and a rolling groan slips past sharp teeth.
(And from there, it’s all a matter of squeezing in closer, canting second by second into a filthier rhythm.)