Date: 2014-03-21 02:28 am (UTC)
mortemscintilla: ∅ Money don't grow on trees (Hei - Eyes Of The Dead)
[ Her bite, hard enamel and blunt-hot pain, spike a heat-shimmer across his skin. Or maybe it's her cry buzzing against his palm. ]

[ He curls his fingers -- two of them -- into the hot moisture between her thighs, while his thumb kneads at her clit. Just enough to slick his fingers, to spark her nerves alight, before he draws them out. Looming over her, Hei parts her legs wide with his knee. Strokes the inside of her thighs, cool fingertips ghosting across sensitive skin. Then with his finger and thumb, he reaches back into the fluffy damp hair itself and feels those tender lips again, forcing them very wide open, to the wash of cool air and cool-hot eyes. ]

[ Working the soft bead of her clit back and forth with his fingers, Hei glances up at her little face under his hand. Dryly, ]


Let's see how quiet you'd be, in my shoes.
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