The kiss starts slow but how could it remain so for long? Whether out of love or desperation, Alana’s is insistent, her tongue prying open my lips. Her eyes, still wet with her unshed tears, are wide with a plea, one I’m not sure I fully understand.
There is one thing I’m sure of. I want to erase that shadow in her eyes. A part of wants to rip it from her, make her scream until she can no longer say such stupid things. Yet my hands remain gentle as they take to exploring her again.
“Lou,” she groans, instinctively tilting her head as my fingers trace her jugular, feeling her rapid heartbeat. “What are you doing?” Or, why am I not doing more?
“You don’t have to be anyone but you.”
“Not now,” she practically whines, shoulders tensing, but they quickly relax as my hand shifts to tracing her spine.
“Not now,” I promise.
My touch becos more deliberate, the firm press of my nails making her arch toward . Her lips part but I swallow whatever she wants to say, sothing she approves of from the way she lts as I move on top of her. Her closed eyes make the lingering dread in my guts tremble; I can’t stop worrying they’re hiding more tears.
She gasps as my teeth tug on her bottom lip, the sound vibrating against my mouth. Her eyes flutter open, dark with desire beneath half-lowered lashes. The glare she attempts lts into sothing hungrier when I release her lip, replaced by a soft moan that I feel more than hear as my fingertips trace the delicate hollow between her breasts.
My voice drops to a husky whisper as I cup the soft weight of her breast. "Look at ," I command, watching her skin flush beneath my touch, my thumb circling her hardening nipple until it pebbles against my fingertip, drawing a shiver from deep within her.
It hasn’t even been a year since we’ve gotten together, but this is already a familiar dance. Without a word, our legs entwine, our sexes eting. Compared to the cool air of a spring night, she’s an inferno, the slick heat a temptation that makes my free hand clench with the effort it takes not to imdiately take her. The head of my gift throbs as it rubs against her folds, but I hold back, drawing out the tension. Savoring it.
“Lou,” Alana groans, her tone a mix of lust and frustration. Her hips buck against as her eyes slip shut, desperately seeking pleasure.
“Look at ,” I tease, grinning at her furrowed brows. Mm, I bet she isn’t thinking silly things anymore.
“I…dammit, just do it!”
“Do what?”
“You know. I can feel you,” she whimpers. “I…need you.”
“You drive crazy when you talk like that,” I hiss. And she knows. Alana is no different from the other woman in my life in the way she enjoys having power over , even in this narrow sense. She sits up, the muscles of her tone stomach briefly gaining definition as they flex. My fingers catch in her hair as she kisses along my jaw, her breath tickling my ear before she whispers into it.
“Pervert.”
That word shouldn’t excite the way it does. Sothing about being “insulted” by a woman I know is interested in , who’s practically oozing desire like my lovely knight, sparks a strange excitent. A feeling similar to conquest, like breaking down imposing walls and bringing down legendary champions.
She’s worried she’s not a hero? Ridiculous. What do I need a hero for? I admit, I was enthralled with the idea of her as a saintly knight, but it has less to do with what that would require and more with the heart of soone willing to do them. Soone strong and compassionate, capable of care and willing to draw steel to defend what they care about. I want soone like that beside , for , not the world.
It doesn’t matter if she’s good, only that she’s good to .
My arms drop to her waist, lifting her. I can feel her excitent in the way her fingers clamp down on my shoulders, hear it in her harsh breaths as she bows her head. Her breathing hitches as one of my hands move between her legs, my own strength on full display as I tease her slit. She enjoys soone having power over her too. Or maybe knowing she has power over soone power, like she wished she had as a girl.
People always want what they’re denied.
She groans as my gift replaces my fingers, her eyes tightly shut as she bites her lip. “Look at ,” I remind her, as I rock my hips, guided by her gasps and moans. She tries to follow the instruction but each thrusts shatters her control. There isn’t a trace of her inner conflict in her slack features, the whole of her concentration on our connection. A feat that sends pride surging through as I unconsciously increase my pace.
If this were the lovely elf with a flower between her legs watching from the side of the bed, the bedfra would be getting reacquainted with the wall already, but I can never bring myself to treat Alana roughly. I carefully lay her down, losing myself in her embrace. I keep things deliberate, pushing us both to our limits. Despite my efforts, my sensitive mber pushes too the peak of pleasure quickly.
She pulls closer as I whisper her na, begging for it. And I can never deny her anything.
I mash our lips together as I fill her, pinning her body with my own as my hips jerk with release. Alana groans into my throat, the flush of her skin deepening as my fluids quickly take effect.
When I look into her eyes, they are glazed, the dark pupils wide enough to swallow . “Alana~”
She's slow to respond, her body liquid beneath mine, a sheen of sweat making her skin glisten in the dim light. Her lips part, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction as she draws out a single syllable like warm honey. "Hmm?"
“I love you~”
“Idiot,” she rebukes affectionately. Playing tough tonight, huh? We’ll see how long that lasts.
“How precious,” a voice purrs at my back.
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