[ How odd it felt to be cradled so carefully by something that could crush her like a butterfly, and yet to feel so much control, as she felt him tremble under each careful stroke and touch of her fingers. But still, she felt no fear of him. Feeling that strange mix of his pre-come and water that she cleans away each time she runs over him. Speeding up, little by little, but never too much. Not yet, at least. Easing him along as gently as possible. A slow control she maintains as best she can.
At least until he finds her with his own hand. She pauses in a stolen breath. Back arching up into him as her leg lifts to allow him to reach her easier. Her eyes slipped shut as she gasps, inhaling against his lips, her arm tightening around his shoulders to not slip. Rocking back in the same encouragement, that builds so readily, and perhaps it's just the memory of the last time, but the croon on her lips is as sweet, if not quite so mad. ] My Prince.
[ That burning image of his crown, that she croons sweetly into his mouth. Not in mockery or even adulation, but wrapped and safe and loving, so very, very loving in the way she was always falling into. ]
no subject
At least until he finds her with his own hand. She pauses in a stolen breath. Back arching up into him as her leg lifts to allow him to reach her easier. Her eyes slipped shut as she gasps, inhaling against his lips, her arm tightening around his shoulders to not slip. Rocking back in the same encouragement, that builds so readily, and perhaps it's just the memory of the last time, but the croon on her lips is as sweet, if not quite so mad. ] My Prince.
[ That burning image of his crown, that she croons sweetly into his mouth. Not in mockery or even adulation, but wrapped and safe and loving, so very, very loving in the way she was always falling into. ]