He's tellingly disheveled, already, and worlds past caring. Impossible to care about anything except that exquisitely sinful mouth, wet velvet heat sliding down the length of him, and the gleam of light on luminous gold eyes.
His hands find her hair, gripping, fingers sliding through the soft red locks, knocking the black feather ornament out of it to fall forgotten to the floor somewhere. The thought occurs to him that she's probably leaving lipstick marks all over his cock, and the mental image sends a jolt through him that makes him bite into his lower lip for a moment, breathing hard through the sharp sweetness.
"Probably--would have taken a--a miracle--oh fuck, fuck yes..."
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He's tellingly disheveled, already, and worlds past caring. Impossible to care about anything except that exquisitely sinful mouth, wet velvet heat sliding down the length of him, and the gleam of light on luminous gold eyes.
His hands find her hair, gripping, fingers sliding through the soft red locks, knocking the black feather ornament out of it to fall forgotten to the floor somewhere. The thought occurs to him that she's probably leaving lipstick marks all over his cock, and the mental image sends a jolt through him that makes him bite into his lower lip for a moment, breathing hard through the sharp sweetness.
"Probably--would have taken a--a miracle--oh fuck, fuck yes..."