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.
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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.