[ the erratic nature of his attention, torn between his own pleasure and hers, drags her final ascent out, leaving her softly whimpering and bucking her hips, pleading for more with every sense. that need tightens and twists the bond between them in time with the way she pulls him in by her heels. and in it, a sort of enveloping friction from the way he ruts against his palm, unfamiliar to her and yet familiar in how it reads from him.
in abstraction, it is satisfying enough to know that he had waited for her permission, to have such acute control over him as to decide even how he satisfies himself. and more than that, to be offered such apparent proof of how he loves serving her like this. but it goes deeper. he's a phantom part of her, which further stimulated leaves her gasping.
the tremor turns to a quake. she's coming undone. that certainty ripples out with the rest.
the high ceilings of the throne room catch her cries and echo them around the empty space. she yowls like an animal, thrashing under him, trying simultaneously to hold onto the contact and flinch away from how it overwhelms her. tears sting her eyes, but not from pain. it's just so much. so much that she can't pull air into her lungs.
her heels scramble along the length of his spine until finally she gets enough leverage to push herself back just enough for a moment's relief. she slumps back against the desk, gasping. slowly, her fingertips comb back through his hair, and the rhythmic, absent gesture soothes her as she starts to come down. ]
no subject
in abstraction, it is satisfying enough to know that he had waited for her permission, to have such acute control over him as to decide even how he satisfies himself. and more than that, to be offered such apparent proof of how he loves serving her like this. but it goes deeper. he's a phantom part of her, which further stimulated leaves her gasping.
the tremor turns to a quake. she's coming undone. that certainty ripples out with the rest.
the high ceilings of the throne room catch her cries and echo them around the empty space. she yowls like an animal, thrashing under him, trying simultaneously to hold onto the contact and flinch away from how it overwhelms her. tears sting her eyes, but not from pain. it's just so much. so much that she can't pull air into her lungs.
her heels scramble along the length of his spine until finally she gets enough leverage to push herself back just enough for a moment's relief. she slumps back against the desk, gasping. slowly, her fingertips comb back through his hair, and the rhythmic, absent gesture soothes her as she starts to come down. ]