[ she wants to hear him, too. more of those bubbling moans that sound so sweet. and she knows just how to get them: keep going.
panting with the effort, Sprezzatura rolls her hips harder, chasing that building heat. a tremor in her thighs. her skin so wet that it sticks to Henry's palm with every press. ]
[Yes, for him. Only for him. Perhaps he’s not earned that qualifier from her yet—only—but the very idea makes him feel so lightheaded. It’s as though all of his blood has rushed elsehwere; between his legs, probably, heat on heat.
God, she’s so wet. His heart thumps in his chest so hard, too, both incredibly turned on and wanting to soak up her own pleasure secondhand. He rocks his palm forward every time she meets it, just to eke out as much of her ecstasy as he can.]
Yes, for me.
[For him. Him. His, his. He wants her so badly in ways that aren’t related to sex — bolstered, naturally, by his obsessive nature. But also the void she fills in him, every day he gets to spend in her presence.]
I want you, Sprezzatura. All to myself. Moments like these are our little collection of secr—
[Secrets, he wants to say, very predictably. But she grinds into him again, and it feels so perfect against his cock, and he just moans, staggered breaths against her skin.]
a harried laugh, turning into a mirrored stuttering moan. surely it can't be that secret, with the amount of noise she makes, and how rickety the cabin itself is. surely someone has overheard, will overhear—
but until they do, yes, it can be their secret. only she gets to know that he shivers after and that his voice begins to crack, at last, at last, when he's on the very verge of coming. she snaps her hips once, twice more, then freezes. frozen in the bloom of pre-orgasmic heat. and suddenly, Sprezzatura's clutching onto him, shivering, burying his face in her bosom and panting against his neck. so fucking close to bliss. ]
[The worst-kept secret in all of Pride. Sooner or later, this will be a very difficult one to keep, indeed; but for now, it's all theirs.
The way she freezes, suddenly, is telling. His shoulders rise in a breathy laugh, and he should be kind and try to make this last as long as possible. A part of him doesn't want this to end, either. But the other part...
...wants to see and feel and hear her fall to pieces, right in front of him.]
Come on, Sprezzatura. Don't hold back. [His palm applies pressure anew, rubs against her despite how she's halted against him. A little push past that precipice. His words might as well be messy half-kisses buried in her bosom.] You're doing so well. We can do this again and again— as much as you like. Anytime you want, I'm yours. And you're mine, too.
thumps her closed fist against his back in a jittery, wracked response of affront, except that he's succeeded. Henry ha just won. the line was paper-thin, and now that he's forced her across it, the heat and wet seems to redouble and drip through her. wetness that feels more immense, even if nothing physical changes. the twitching becomes shuddering becomes an instinctive and impossible-to-stop bucking in her hips, and her thighs tense and relax in slow and sweeping bouts. tense: squeezing his hips. relax: spreading wide. tense: squeezing his hips. relax. tense. relax. ]
You knave!
[ his fingers are so... slender. can feel them in the hug of her cunt. then, too, his palm grinding into her clit and the wet curls surrounding it. why is she thinking about that?...
[There. There it is. All of her clinging and shuddering against him. The clench of her cunt around his fingers and sporadic hug of her thighs. She’s amazing. So, so amazing.
And then she squeezes him with her tail.
Henry all but throws his head back, a genuine smile spread so wide across his face that he shows the line of his teeth. What happens when a man feels so simultaneously happy and lustful? It’s a strange kind of bliss. Heady and hazy and like there are little embers in his heart.]
D-don’t do that— [Accompanied by a light, uneven laugh.] Or you will make me come, too.
[ should that be so terrible? she's still quaking in his arms, but not so much she can't see the way he smiles and how good that makes her feel, in turn. this is what it means to feel pleasure compounded. ]
[ he's still pushing on, rigid in her tail and hot and throbbing, too. her arms curl closer behind his head. she closes her eyes. his fingers feel as though they belong seated in her and keeping her full. ]
[How cute to think he has any capacity for real decision-making in a state like this. He just nuzzles even closer against her, fingertips tight against her back.]
[ not only 'can', but 'will'. reaches back with one hand to lift one cheek and part it, giving him the space to bury deep again, as deep as possible. from head to toe she's going limp and sitting heavier on her thighs. more weight on his palm, now soaked. ]
[He fits perfectly, couched by her pliable softness and warmth. Henry breathes out, shuddering, happy to oblige. But also just greedy enough to make a request-]
[Clumsy is absolutely fine; it's not like Henry is going to complain. It adds even more pressure, even more of that squirming warmth pulsing around his cock. He wants more of it, throbbing around him until he comes.
[ scrunches-unscrunches her fingers at his back, through the fabric. a fond gesture that she'll forget about later. but it's there, now, and she strokes him firmly at the base with the coil. ]
[Perfect. Even so snug against her, with not much leeway for her tail to stimulate him, she still feels perfect. Writhes and strokes against him in a way that sends tingles up and down every nerve ending, making the liquid heat within him roil and threaten to overflow.
Of course he’s going to grind into her to hasten himself over that line — the press of fingernails felt through the thin material of her blouse is obvious as the pressure mounts. Henry makes a ragged sound as he chases after it, no hesitation. He ruts against her again and again, taking advantage of the small amount of clearance he’s given to move. It’s still more than enough.]
abruptly uncurls her arms to shed her blouse, and she lets it slither to the floor like the discarded skin of an animal. now utterly nude but for the stretched and struggling panties bunch up between their bodies. then arms around again. ]
Nearly there, lapochka. Nearly.
[ can she guide his other hand gently out of her? she wants it holding her thigh. ]
[She certainly can. Just like she can appreciate how slick and shining his fingers have gotten from being inside of her, and the stark way they cool against the air as soon as they're free is almost enough to distract.
Well, no — not nearly enough, really. But she can guide his hand to her thigh all the same, and his long fingers splay and clamp around it, half-kneading and half-gripping. Mimicking the pressure of his other hand, which now presses into nude skin now that she's discarded her blouse.
Just all the more anchoring points to grip as he continues to grind his cock against her cheeks, her tail, breathing hard. The smear of precome wetting that snug place in-between, though he's seconds away from making it all the messier, for how he tenses quite suddenly, every muscle in him taut as he—
Comes with a haggard, gasping moan, his cock twitching beneath her coiled touch, and spilling himself precisely where he's tucked beneath her. Gravity will turn it untidy, but right now, it's just hot, wet, pulsing heat coming (literally) to greet her.]
[ mmhh, that's obscene. presses a very, very tender kiss into the hollow of jaw and ear, murmuring her pleasure in echo for him. her fingers are in his hair, combing through, and against his clothed back, rucking fabric, and her heart thunders in her chest and pulses in time with Henry's climax. so hot on her skin. then, rivulets pulling downward in the valley of her backside.
she feels good. more than just the sex to thank for that.
[His orgasms are always so intense with her. This one is no different, the pleasure wracking through his body in waves that only begin to peter out by small degrees. Her fingers feel like they're all over him all at once, through his hair and on his back, and while it's not quite an overstimulation—because it's very welcome—it's still so much. The shiver that usually takes a few seconds to arrive crawls down his spine almost immediately, his body trembling, and therefore trembling hers in turn.
He slides both hands up her back to rest at the back of her shoulders, leaning forward, nuzzling into those kisses.]
[ ah, he's tiring. she feels it, too. the soft suffusion of the afterglow is spreading through them both and, for once, among many more times where she did not, Sprezzatura thinks it would be quite nice to heed it.
chasing that shiver, she tickles her fingers up and down his spine. ]
Maybe we leave licking for another time, and for now, you lay back for me.
[Ah, but he doesn't want to stop this. But he wants to cuddle. But he doesn't want to stop it— but he wants to cuddle.
Another shiver tingles up his spine, shaking his shoulders.]
Only if you lay with me.
[Their thoughts are aligned, which is good, because Henry uses the leverage of his arms wrapped around her to lie down on his side, taking her with him.]
[Well— oof. He now has Sprezzatura lain atop him. His arms wrap around her a second time, and the mess between their legs is not one that bothers him one bit.]
[ once it has cooled and dried, she will find herself quite vocal about it. right now, however, it's merely slick and thrilling and dripping slowly down, coating her hole and catching in the soft curls further between. right now, she's not even thinking about it. ]
Mmh.
[ ostensibly? she just wants to keep him close in a way that allows her to laze utterly, like this, draped down atop him. ]
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panting with the effort, Sprezzatura rolls her hips harder, chasing that building heat. a tremor in her thighs. her skin so wet that it sticks to Henry's palm with every press. ]
For you--
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God, she’s so wet. His heart thumps in his chest so hard, too, both incredibly turned on and wanting to soak up her own pleasure secondhand. He rocks his palm forward every time she meets it, just to eke out as much of her ecstasy as he can.]
Yes, for me.
[For him. Him. His, his. He wants her so badly in ways that aren’t related to sex — bolstered, naturally, by his obsessive nature. But also the void she fills in him, every day he gets to spend in her presence.]
I want you, Sprezzatura. All to myself. Moments like these are our little collection of secr—
[Secrets, he wants to say, very predictably. But she grinds into him again, and it feels so perfect against his cock, and he just moans, staggered breaths against her skin.]
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a harried laugh, turning into a mirrored stuttering moan. surely it can't be that secret, with the amount of noise she makes, and how rickety the cabin itself is. surely someone has overheard, will overhear—
but until they do, yes, it can be their secret. only she gets to know that he shivers after and that his voice begins to crack, at last, at last, when he's on the very verge of coming. she snaps her hips once, twice more, then freezes. frozen in the bloom of pre-orgasmic heat. and suddenly, Sprezzatura's clutching onto him, shivering, burying his face in her bosom and panting against his neck. so fucking close to bliss. ]
Not yet. I am not wanting it to be over yet—
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The way she freezes, suddenly, is telling. His shoulders rise in a breathy laugh, and he should be kind and try to make this last as long as possible. A part of him doesn't want this to end, either. But the other part...
...wants to see and feel and hear her fall to pieces, right in front of him.]
Come on, Sprezzatura. Don't hold back. [His palm applies pressure anew, rubs against her despite how she's halted against him. A little push past that precipice. His words might as well be messy half-kisses buried in her bosom.] You're doing so well. We can do this again and again— as much as you like. Anytime you want, I'm yours. And you're mine, too.
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[ YOU.
thumps her closed fist against his back in a jittery, wracked response of affront, except that he's succeeded. Henry ha just won. the line was paper-thin, and now that he's forced her across it, the heat and wet seems to redouble and drip through her. wetness that feels more immense, even if nothing physical changes. the twitching becomes shuddering becomes an instinctive and impossible-to-stop bucking in her hips, and her thighs tense and relax in slow and sweeping bouts. tense: squeezing his hips. relax: spreading wide. tense: squeezing his hips. relax. tense. relax. ]
You knave!
[ his fingers are so... slender. can feel them in the hug of her cunt. then, too, his palm grinding into her clit and the wet curls surrounding it. why is she thinking about that?...
retaliatory!! tail squeeze!!!! ]
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And then she squeezes him with her tail.
Henry all but throws his head back, a genuine smile spread so wide across his face that he shows the line of his teeth. What happens when a man feels so simultaneously happy and lustful? It’s a strange kind of bliss. Heady and hazy and like there are little embers in his heart.]
D-don’t do that— [Accompanied by a light, uneven laugh.] Or you will make me come, too.
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[ should that be so terrible? she's still quaking in his arms, but not so much she can't see the way he smiles and how good that makes her feel, in turn. this is what it means to feel pleasure compounded. ]
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She trembles in his arms and he holds on steadfast, nuzzled in, and driving his hips forward once more. Ohh, she feels divine.]
In that case... I guess I won't complain.
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[ he's still pushing on, rigid in her tail and hot and throbbing, too. her arms curl closer behind his head. she closes her eyes. his fingers feel as though they belong seated in her and keeping her full. ]
What of my tongue?
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Can still do that.
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[ not only 'can', but 'will'. reaches back with one hand to lift one cheek and part it, giving him the space to bury deep again, as deep as possible. from head to toe she's going limp and sitting heavier on her thighs. more weight on his palm, now soaked. ]
Then paint me.
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Use your tail, too.
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bites down on her lower lip and coils it around, a little clumsily. she can't see, after all. and he's pushed in so snug. ]
Deeeep breaths, now.
[ because when he says "use", Sprezzatura uses. ]
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Deep, deep inhale.]
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Of course he’s going to grind into her to hasten himself over that line — the press of fingernails felt through the thin material of her blouse is obvious as the pressure mounts. Henry makes a ragged sound as he chases after it, no hesitation. He ruts against her again and again, taking advantage of the small amount of clearance he’s given to move. It’s still more than enough.]
Fffuck— You’re so good—
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abruptly uncurls her arms to shed her blouse, and she lets it slither to the floor like the discarded skin of an animal. now utterly nude but for the stretched and struggling panties bunch up between their bodies. then arms around again. ]
Nearly there, lapochka. Nearly.
[ can she guide his other hand gently out of her? she wants it holding her thigh. ]
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Well, no — not nearly enough, really. But she can guide his hand to her thigh all the same, and his long fingers splay and clamp around it, half-kneading and half-gripping. Mimicking the pressure of his other hand, which now presses into nude skin now that she's discarded her blouse.
Just all the more anchoring points to grip as he continues to grind his cock against her cheeks, her tail, breathing hard. The smear of precome wetting that snug place in-between, though he's seconds away from making it all the messier, for how he tenses quite suddenly, every muscle in him taut as he—
Comes with a haggard, gasping moan, his cock twitching beneath her coiled touch, and spilling himself precisely where he's tucked beneath her. Gravity will turn it untidy, but right now, it's just hot, wet, pulsing heat coming (literally) to greet her.]
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she feels good. more than just the sex to thank for that.
another kiss. ]
Mm. Well done.
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He slides both hands up her back to rest at the back of her shoulders, leaning forward, nuzzling into those kisses.]
Mmn.
[Very verbose. Give him a minute.]
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chasing that shiver, she tickles her fingers up and down his spine. ]
Maybe we leave licking for another time, and for now, you lay back for me.
[ so we can cuddle. ]
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Another shiver tingles up his spine, shaking his shoulders.]
Only if you lay with me.
[Their thoughts are aligned, which is good, because Henry uses the leverage of his arms wrapped around her to lie down on his side, taking her with him.]
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[ pushes him once more onto his back. so she can lay atop him, a little tiefling blanket. ]
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Oh, trying to keep me warm?
[little shiver again]
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Mmh.
[ ostensibly? she just wants to keep him close in a way that allows her to laze utterly, like this, draped down atop him. ]
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