[ Hearing him say her name like that is so dangerous. When he breathes it so warmly, like he's just as drunk on her as she is on him, she's not sure she'll be able to go back. It's terrifying, just how quickly she's losing herself to him - and it's made all the worse, somehow, by the way his claws press into her back. This isn't right, this isn't right at all - she shouldn't be giving herself to any man, let alone a beast like him. She shouldn't have given him her name, shouldn't have begged him for his, shouldn't be clinging so desperately to him or but even knowing that, she can't help herself. Ever since she was dragged into the light as the Saintess all she's ever done is give and give so just this once- if just this once she can- ]
Ah...?!
[ For a few brief, agonizing seconds, she thinks he really might stop there, when she's so achingly close - then she's suddenly full. So suddenly that it takes her a split seco to process exactly what's happened. But once it does -
If the noises she's made before had been bad enough, now the noise that spills out of her is the height of indecency. She can't even manage a real word, only a gasping, choked-off moan, her hips bucking violently as her body bows under his touch, everything taught and tight and clenched. It's good, it's so good, almost more than she can stand. The Mors King is inside her, thick and solid and real, and every time her hips roll forward, the smooth, textured surface of his tail grinds against her and it's so intense that for a second she thinks he really might be following through on his promise to break her - and that it was going to feel like this when he did, she's sorry he waited so long.
Ah, she thinks. I really am the worst.
She climaxes hard enough to punch all the breath out of her lungs in a long, shuddering cry, and it's so strong that she goes limp, boneless and breathless - if he weren't holding her against him, she probably would have melted into the bed. Her head is spinning, her thoughts hazy and scattered, her nerves are buzzing so intensely that all she can do is cling to him, shuddering and gasping and completely overwhelmed. ]
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Ah...?!
[ For a few brief, agonizing seconds, she thinks he really might stop there, when she's so achingly close - then she's suddenly full. So suddenly that it takes her a split seco to process exactly what's happened. But once it does -
If the noises she's made before had been bad enough, now the noise that spills out of her is the height of indecency. She can't even manage a real word, only a gasping, choked-off moan, her hips bucking violently as her body bows under his touch, everything taught and tight and clenched. It's good, it's so good, almost more than she can stand. The Mors King is inside her, thick and solid and real, and every time her hips roll forward, the smooth, textured surface of his tail grinds against her and it's so intense that for a second she thinks he really might be following through on his promise to break her - and that it was going to feel like this when he did, she's sorry he waited so long.
Ah, she thinks. I really am the worst.
She climaxes hard enough to punch all the breath out of her lungs in a long, shuddering cry, and it's so strong that she goes limp, boneless and breathless - if he weren't holding her against him, she probably would have melted into the bed. Her head is spinning, her thoughts hazy and scattered, her nerves are buzzing so intensely that all she can do is cling to him, shuddering and gasping and completely overwhelmed. ]