Grinning and resisting just a touch when she pulls on his hair, inviting her to tug a little harder to reach what she's after. And then he gives in, in more than one sense of the word, his head falling back and his pulse thundering as his fingers clutch at her hair near the scalp as he's rendered still by her first bite. Gasping at the feeling of being claimed, and claimed by such a woman as his dreams could hardly imagine.
His hands remember what they're doing in between bites, carding through her hair in a meager attempt to give as good as he's getting, knowing that's impossible. He can feel every part of her mouth moving toward his ears, her breath washing over his skin, the slight shift of her grip in his hair, and his skin practically tingles with anticipation, breath catching before a hard exhale. Then her lips brush his ear and he shudders hard, his tail closing down around hers.
And then the music. The music.
At first there's a flicker of recognition, and then that sensual pleasure curls around him and sets him aching so sweetly. This time when he gasps, it's followed closely by short-winded panting. The music flows to every part of him and how can he help but react in his hands, in his heart, in his hips, that perfect winding of tension that he only feels when he's submitting to someone's will.
He can't keep still, his body sliding against hers, overwarm and pleading, shameless. He's only distantly aware of that, his mind centered on the world she's weaving for him that curls through his mind, demanding his full attention. He either couldn't or doesn't wish to do anything but react, moaning long and low, in tune with the song as much as he can be (his voice warbles a bit, in rhythm with those little surges), clinging to her for grounding, legs squeezing her hips. He has seldom had so much fun while still fully dressed.
He's helpless to say it, but his body makes perfectly clear that in his moment, the only thing he desires in the world is more of her.
A little defiance, as a treat. There's an almost laughing trill to her purr, warm with approval … at least until she feels the way he surrenders under her. To her, clinging so tight and sweet, so desperate. The rumble in her chest dips into a low growl of satisfaction. That, too, she weaves into their song, threaded alongside every panting breath, every gasp, every moan. She presses herself closer to him. Claiming, anchoring; a star sweeping the moon into its embrace. Gravity shifts, giving way, and reality is one step to the left of following. He's pinned in his nest, and he's pinned at the very edge of freefall.
Lips against his ears, one and both. Butterfly kisses and slow strokes, and the softest tease of teeth. Teeth against his throat — a tender clamp that says, you're right where I want you; I'm exactly where I want to be; stay — and a wet, silken heat enveloping his cock, swallowing down to the hilt.
He's certainly pinned somewhere, he honestly could not name his location under threat of his life as focused as he is on her exclusively. Compared with how she feels against him, her soft hair between his fingers, her teeth on his skin, where they are seems like an insignificant detail. By contrast, he could carve a lifesized statue of her that's accurate to the smallest detail, and compose a thousand stanzas on her beauty and ten times that on her singing. Priorities.
He's helpless and absolutely fine with that, less stroking her hair now than holding on for dear life as he moans and whines and moves, to the extent he can, along with her song. Her lips and then teeth find his ears and he shudders hard, hips bucking up. He's certain that she knew exactly how sensitive those are when she went for them. And she bites his neck once more, and he can feel the insinuation and almost laughs, he wouldn't move for anything. And then--
He often thinks of violin strings and piano wires in moments like this, overtuned and half a turn from snapping. It's apt enough, except that comparing her to anything less than perfectly in tune is a complete mismatch. Suffice it to say that his back arches off the silks and his claws scrape her scalp as he barely remembers to breathe between a sharp cry and the moans that follow. He wishes whether he knew if she likes having someone cry her name, she more than merits the honor if so, and if not it's far too gauche and if he offended her he might actually die.
She is everywhere all at once — or so it seems, and so it is.
Still singing soft and sweet into his ear, lips never quite touching, drinking in the full sensory experience of his pleasure. He's desperate and gorgeous and utterly, ridiculously intoxicating, and her blood burns with how much she wants. She spins her own desire, her approval, her craving for and delight in him, back into their song, sharing herself with him, letting him feel -
The gentle glide of her fingertips tracing each of his ears in concert. Ruthlessly delicate hints of claw, of teeth; and all the while she has him by the throat, relishing the thrum of his pulse under her tongue; and all the while she lavishes his chest with biting kisses.
"Just like that," she purrs, moulding herself against him. Hip to hip, gentle and utterly immovable, granting him just enough room that he'll wish he had more. All that … and the same purr vibrating around him from root to tip, steadily ramping up in intensity the louder he sings for her.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: + Miyuni - NSFW probably
His hands remember what they're doing in between bites, carding through her hair in a meager attempt to give as good as he's getting, knowing that's impossible. He can feel every part of her mouth moving toward his ears, her breath washing over his skin, the slight shift of her grip in his hair, and his skin practically tingles with anticipation, breath catching before a hard exhale. Then her lips brush his ear and he shudders hard, his tail closing down around hers.
And then the music. The music.
At first there's a flicker of recognition, and then that sensual pleasure curls around him and sets him aching so sweetly. This time when he gasps, it's followed closely by short-winded panting. The music flows to every part of him and how can he help but react in his hands, in his heart, in his hips, that perfect winding of tension that he only feels when he's submitting to someone's will.
He can't keep still, his body sliding against hers, overwarm and pleading, shameless. He's only distantly aware of that, his mind centered on the world she's weaving for him that curls through his mind, demanding his full attention. He either couldn't or doesn't wish to do anything but react, moaning long and low, in tune with the song as much as he can be (his voice warbles a bit, in rhythm with those little surges), clinging to her for grounding, legs squeezing her hips. He has seldom had so much fun while still fully dressed.
He's helpless to say it, but his body makes perfectly clear that in his moment, the only thing he desires in the world is more of her.
Re: + Miyuni - NSFW probably
Lips against his ears, one and both. Butterfly kisses and slow strokes, and the softest tease of teeth. Teeth against his throat — a tender clamp that says, you're right where I want you; I'm exactly where I want to be; stay — and a wet, silken heat enveloping his cock, swallowing down to the hilt.
Re: + Miyuni - NSFW probably
He's helpless and absolutely fine with that, less stroking her hair now than holding on for dear life as he moans and whines and moves, to the extent he can, along with her song. Her lips and then teeth find his ears and he shudders hard, hips bucking up. He's certain that she knew exactly how sensitive those are when she went for them. And she bites his neck once more, and he can feel the insinuation and almost laughs, he wouldn't move for anything. And then--
He often thinks of violin strings and piano wires in moments like this, overtuned and half a turn from snapping. It's apt enough, except that comparing her to anything less than perfectly in tune is a complete mismatch. Suffice it to say that his back arches off the silks and his claws scrape her scalp as he barely remembers to breathe between a sharp cry and the moans that follow. He wishes whether he knew if she likes having someone cry her name, she more than merits the honor if so, and if not it's far too gauche and if he offended her he might actually die.
Re: + Miyuni - NSFW probably
Still singing soft and sweet into his ear, lips never quite touching, drinking in the full sensory experience of his pleasure. He's desperate and gorgeous and utterly, ridiculously intoxicating, and her blood burns with how much she wants. She spins her own desire, her approval, her craving for and delight in him, back into their song, sharing herself with him, letting him feel -
The gentle glide of her fingertips tracing each of his ears in concert. Ruthlessly delicate hints of claw, of teeth; and all the while she has him by the throat, relishing the thrum of his pulse under her tongue; and all the while she lavishes his chest with biting kisses.
"Just like that," she purrs, moulding herself against him. Hip to hip, gentle and utterly immovable, granting him just enough room that he'll wish he had more. All that … and the same purr vibrating around him from root to tip, steadily ramping up in intensity the louder he sings for her.