( as unwilling as she is to let go of this feeling — being so incredibly full of him, she knows they've both been wound too tight over the years and no amount of self-control could keep that coil from settling in. yet, the moment she feels that telltale flutter of it's beginning (her end) it only goads her all the more, and despite their bodies working both for and against them, she's determined to try and bring them closer to that edge together. she's learned his unraveling: teeth capturing his lips, finding a haven in the crook of her neck where tongue smoothes over that thundering column.
her hips jerk reactively once his thumb rolls over her clit, palm pressed flat to the chill of the wall clasping back to cradle him to her, instead, the other still white-gripped to the headboard.
and suddenly she's switching up her pattern, if only to ensure the pad of his finger doesn't lose its place at that bundle — she keeps his cock lodged deeply within her, and rather than snap her hips upright she's rocking into the bed his thighs have made for her, the lower half of her spine winding, a wave that meets him again and again. every time they're canting forward he manages to hint up against that sweet spot she'd guided him to before, and that fire they're fostering crawls higher.
she's cursing beneath her breath, the same desperation that'd wound about her spine when he'd brought her to that shattering end with his fingers showing in the frantic rhythm she's found, the way she chases it, the way the room echos back nothing more than their collision of breaths and flesh. )
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her hips jerk reactively once his thumb rolls over her clit, palm pressed flat to the chill of the wall clasping back to cradle him to her, instead, the other still white-gripped to the headboard.
and suddenly she's switching up her pattern, if only to ensure the pad of his finger doesn't lose its place at that bundle — she keeps his cock lodged deeply within her, and rather than snap her hips upright she's rocking into the bed his thighs have made for her, the lower half of her spine winding, a wave that meets him again and again. every time they're canting forward he manages to hint up against that sweet spot she'd guided him to before, and that fire they're fostering crawls higher.
she's cursing beneath her breath, the same desperation that'd wound about her spine when he'd brought her to that shattering end with his fingers showing in the frantic rhythm she's found, the way she chases it, the way the room echos back nothing more than their collision of breaths and flesh. )