[ His bite is so firm it nearly draws blood. Finely bruised at least, the pain is rippling and broad. It does not distract him from the look in her eye he last saw. Nor the way it felt as she swallowed his seed. The noise she made at its taste. Tasting and pulling every last drop from him like it were a honeyed wine. Gods be fucking good. Is this what it feels like to be deserving?
The sharp edges of pleasure reach him as she slowly releases him, yet he doesnโt mind the white hotness of it. He sinks into the cushions under her, releasing the skin between his teeth as he gathers himself. His head rests along the wall. Rocking slowly as the carriage rumbles through. Feeling a sense of decadence, a sense of peace turn his limbs loose and useless.
He thinks he might not mind spending moons in a carriage with her. If this is how theyโll occupy their time together.
Aemondโs head pivots to look down at her. One castle gate opening for them. His hand drops to brush a curl away from her face with one light twirl of his finger. Resting it back into place. The carriage pulls forward through and trawls into the courtyard. The young prince leans forward. His idle hand reaching to draw her upward off his lap to kiss her. To press into her mouth and draw a taste of himself still lingering within the traces of it on her lips and tongue. Parting once the carriage rolls to its final stop.]
no subject
The sharp edges of pleasure reach him as she slowly releases him, yet he doesnโt mind the white hotness of it. He sinks into the cushions under her, releasing the skin between his teeth as he gathers himself. His head rests along the wall. Rocking slowly as the carriage rumbles through. Feeling a sense of decadence, a sense of peace turn his limbs loose and useless.
He thinks he might not mind spending moons in a carriage with her. If this is how theyโll occupy their time together.
Aemondโs head pivots to look down at her. One castle gate opening for them. His hand drops to brush a curl away from her face with one light twirl of his finger. Resting it back into place. The carriage pulls forward through and trawls into the courtyard. The young prince leans forward. His idle hand reaching to draw her upward off his lap to kiss her. To press into her mouth and draw a taste of himself still lingering within the traces of it on her lips and tongue. Parting once the carriage rolls to its final stop.]