His fireball threat makes her laugh, a sound that becomes something else and breathier as he sinks inside her; she grips the bedding underneath and presses her forehead into her arm, half-aware of the way her wings flick and flutter in simultaneous response. Reactive, as noted, alike to the way her toes curl against the outside of his calves or the particular arch of her back. That shuddering shiver runs through every part of her as he rocks in and out of her,
“That feels,” a little unsteadily, “I can feel—”
Just this once, she may not be talking about his cock.
It’s sort of strange, like— the way it feels to have magic used close to her. Or those very particular, pricey enchanted toys she’d always sort of thought were a bit overrated, all things considered, but the way that they might be made to vibrate, her efforts to keep her wings spread and out of the way are complicated by the way she can feel herself reflexively … something. That more insectoid buzzing, where often she keeps herself still, or bound, or slow when she’s conscious of it.
Stephen hits just that right, perfect spot inside of her and she doesn’t mean to slap him in the face—
no subject
“That feels,” a little unsteadily, “I can feel—”
Just this once, she may not be talking about his cock.
It’s sort of strange, like— the way it feels to have magic used close to her. Or those very particular, pricey enchanted toys she’d always sort of thought were a bit overrated, all things considered, but the way that they might be made to vibrate, her efforts to keep her wings spread and out of the way are complicated by the way she can feel herself reflexively … something. That more insectoid buzzing, where often she keeps herself still, or bound, or slow when she’s conscious of it.
Stephen hits just that right, perfect spot inside of her and she doesn’t mean to slap him in the face—