[ More, she bids; more, he gives. Like the levies of a dam giving way to a storm, her words are the last bit of permission he needs, galvanizing him to surge forward. Passion helps, as does the heated, feral instinct of lust he too often finds himself falling into within this realm, provoked by her hand upon him and her breaths ringing within his mind. The echo of her voice leave no room for doubt in his mind: he needs to fuck this woman until she cries out, signaling that she has naught else within her mind, no pain...
...No lonesomeness that has brought a smile he's never seen sadder upon anyone who's ever lived before.
Somnus throws her to his bed, not at all gracefully, but clumsily in passion encouraged by roughness, tumbling with her once until he's atop of her, a knee wrestling between her legs to part them for him, and one powerful hand brings her arms up above her body, pinning her wrists to the mattress. For one fleeting moment, he's reminded of how lithe a woman she is beneath him, a delicateness that begs protection, not--... this.
But he adheres to duty, and they have one to the Augur, to their worlds; and he, to her, for fulfilling this with him. Rough is what they are called for. ] Stay yourself. [ His hips fall flush against hers, and his breath staggers as the pressure twists like a knife against his gut, paradoxically strained and pleasurable. Beyond his control, he presses his erection against her again, allowing a single pant as his body trembles, and he dives forward to consume her lips with a hungry mouth, tongue invasive and intending to consume and steal what breath she has.
His other hand falls over her body, rippling over her dress and pulling apart the top few buttons impatiently, parting the fabric to grasp at her breast. Gone is the gentleness from when they had been under the influence of love. In its place is the experience of knowing where she likes to be touched, and how, only rougher, flicking and massaging over her nipples as he continues to drag her taste into his mouth. Only after does his palm descend to find its way to her thigh, then hiking up her skirt again to drag his nails over creamy skin, molding flesh with a strong, demanding grip against her.
"More," she said.
He means to overwhelm her, by kiss or bite or pressure or touch; and now, he adds one more factor. Somnus' pulls down at her undergarment, swiping up with the pads of his fingers against the lips he feels between her legs, finding exactly how he wishes to position his hand against all he needs to touch. Upon her neck, he bites her. Below, he invades her sex with two fingers, slowly then quickly, over and over. ]
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...No lonesomeness that has brought a smile he's never seen sadder upon anyone who's ever lived before.
Somnus throws her to his bed, not at all gracefully, but clumsily in passion encouraged by roughness, tumbling with her once until he's atop of her, a knee wrestling between her legs to part them for him, and one powerful hand brings her arms up above her body, pinning her wrists to the mattress. For one fleeting moment, he's reminded of how lithe a woman she is beneath him, a delicateness that begs protection, not--... this.
But he adheres to duty, and they have one to the Augur, to their worlds; and he, to her, for fulfilling this with him. Rough is what they are called for. ] Stay yourself. [ His hips fall flush against hers, and his breath staggers as the pressure twists like a knife against his gut, paradoxically strained and pleasurable. Beyond his control, he presses his erection against her again, allowing a single pant as his body trembles, and he dives forward to consume her lips with a hungry mouth, tongue invasive and intending to consume and steal what breath she has.
His other hand falls over her body, rippling over her dress and pulling apart the top few buttons impatiently, parting the fabric to grasp at her breast. Gone is the gentleness from when they had been under the influence of love. In its place is the experience of knowing where she likes to be touched, and how, only rougher, flicking and massaging over her nipples as he continues to drag her taste into his mouth. Only after does his palm descend to find its way to her thigh, then hiking up her skirt again to drag his nails over creamy skin, molding flesh with a strong, demanding grip against her.
"More," she said.
He means to overwhelm her, by kiss or bite or pressure or touch; and now, he adds one more factor. Somnus' pulls down at her undergarment, swiping up with the pads of his fingers against the lips he feels between her legs, finding exactly how he wishes to position his hand against all he needs to touch. Upon her neck, he bites her. Below, he invades her sex with two fingers, slowly then quickly, over and over. ]