[ sweet and slow had built her up little by little, helped her to get comfortable with this space and these touches and the inevitable conclusion of it all — but it's the firmer presses now, the curl of his fingers and the short back-and-forth of them when they thrust against her, that earn those louder sounds, those guttural moans of pleasure as she writhes beneath him, head tipping back to expose the column of her throat as she gasps for air. ]
I — [ but it's strangled, words lost. not that it matters. the bleed of her thoughts into his is all too messy now, the urge to chase that high coming through from both of them at once, the vibration of his own groans rumbling against her body from where his mouth rests only underlining that. ]
Please.
[ she couldn't put into words what it was she was begging for. there isn't even anything concrete in mind. it's simply the desire for more (harder, faster, deeper) that pushes the plea out of her mouth, her back arching into his touch as she tries on instinct alone to get as much of him at once as she can. ]
no subject
I — [ but it's strangled, words lost. not that it matters. the bleed of her thoughts into his is all too messy now, the urge to chase that high coming through from both of them at once, the vibration of his own groans rumbling against her body from where his mouth rests only underlining that. ]
Please.
[ she couldn't put into words what it was she was begging for. there isn't even anything concrete in mind. it's simply the desire for more (harder, faster, deeper) that pushes the plea out of her mouth, her back arching into his touch as she tries on instinct alone to get as much of him at once as she can. ]