[ The moment Aymeric's finger falters Era lets out a small, reflexive whine from deep in her throat, only to have her breath hitch as he inserts another. She continues rocking her hips, feeling brief bursts of pleasure whenever she is touched just so. Pressure grows in her core; her body filling with liquid heat that burns under her skin.
His words only add to it. Makes her need more. Need him more.
Era would very much like to touch her husband's broad chest; to delight in the way his muscles dance under her fingertips. She wants to feel all of his warmth. To press their bodies together. She never wants to leave him again.
Instead she can only arch into his touch, rock against his fingers, shiver and shudder with every small burst of pleasure. Era tightens her grip in his hair, quickly beginning to forget about restraint, and drags him down to her mouth again even as she surges upward to meet it. It is, perhaps, more rough than Aymeric has yet experienced from his wife. She drags on his lower lip with her teeth, using enough pressure to be just this side of uncomfortable, then swipes her tongue across it with languid ease.
Era pulls away enough that Aymeric can see her: pupils dilated wide with her arousal, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, and tail writhing on the ground beside her. When she speaks her voice cracks with lust, her tone teasing -- ]
Prove it, my dear Aymeric.
[ This is not the time or place for her to strip him of his armour no matter how much she wants to. Her hands remain occupied with Aymeric's scalp and neck, no longer gentle in the least as she continues to lose all sense of control.
no subject
His words only add to it. Makes her need more. Need him more.
Era would very much like to touch her husband's broad chest; to delight in the way his muscles dance under her fingertips. She wants to feel all of his warmth. To press their bodies together. She never wants to leave him again.
Instead she can only arch into his touch, rock against his fingers, shiver and shudder with every small burst of pleasure. Era tightens her grip in his hair, quickly beginning to forget about restraint, and drags him down to her mouth again even as she surges upward to meet it. It is, perhaps, more rough than Aymeric has yet experienced from his wife. She drags on his lower lip with her teeth, using enough pressure to be just this side of uncomfortable, then swipes her tongue across it with languid ease.
Era pulls away enough that Aymeric can see her: pupils dilated wide with her arousal, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, and tail writhing on the ground beside her. When she speaks her voice cracks with lust, her tone teasing -- ]
Prove it, my dear Aymeric.
[ This is not the time or place for her to strip him of his armour no matter how much she wants to. Her hands remain occupied with Aymeric's scalp and neck, no longer gentle in the least as she continues to lose all sense of control.
Era needs him. ]
I am yours to take.