[ It’s bliss, for him to listen to her after all this time — to obey her orders, after years of skirting and reinventing his to suit her whims. Her name in his mouth, his hands digging into her hips, his cock pushing and bursting inside her, painting her insides like she has every part of him. His office, his mug, his life, now his very flesh, splattered with colours so vibrant and otherwise unknown to him. Proof of her influence, her mark. Forever changed because she decided she wanted him, not the other way around. She held him first, tears staining his waistcoat. She loved him first.
And last.
She comes on his cock, her walls clamping down on him as if to keep him there evermore. A wounded animal sound torn from her throat. She folds over him, into him, half-riding him through the aftershocks with her twitching hips. With his throat barred for her, there’s only one thing to do. Her head fits into the hollow of his throat, like a bullet in the barrel of a gun, and she bites down on the tender flesh, canines sinking deep enough to bleed. Not cruel, though, never cruel — merely impulsive, tongue laving over the wound. Mouth forming a seal, marks upon marks.
My darling soothes the beast within, though all she manages is his name in response. No longer crying but still whimpering. Her hands cup his cheek, thread through his hair, keep him close. Finally, all her needs met. The hunt, won. ]
Yours.
[ The same way he’s hers, a deal inked in blood. ]
no subject
And last.
She comes on his cock, her walls clamping down on him as if to keep him there evermore. A wounded animal sound torn from her throat. She folds over him, into him, half-riding him through the aftershocks with her twitching hips. With his throat barred for her, there’s only one thing to do. Her head fits into the hollow of his throat, like a bullet in the barrel of a gun, and she bites down on the tender flesh, canines sinking deep enough to bleed. Not cruel, though, never cruel — merely impulsive, tongue laving over the wound. Mouth forming a seal, marks upon marks.
My darling soothes the beast within, though all she manages is his name in response. No longer crying but still whimpering. Her hands cup his cheek, thread through his hair, keep him close. Finally, all her needs met. The hunt, won. ]
Yours.
[ The same way he’s hers, a deal inked in blood. ]