VARUS
It certainly is what he’s calling it now, as he gives her his full attention – despite his brain half torn between giving her pleasure and focusing on the hand on his cock. He swallows, biting back the edge of a smirk and his near attempt at sinking his fangs into her neck as she offers more of the milky skin to him, to hear the sounds she makes as he slips his finger inside her, stroking easily as he readjusts slightly.
All of him? He can do that. He withdraws from her momentarily, his metal hand slipping to her lower back after lifting her legs up around his hips a bit higher, her plea drawing a breathy groan from him as he pauses, pulled back enough to look at her through his blown pupils. “Y’wanna guide me, love?” He hums, a slow rock of his hips that presses the tip of his length against her clit with a wicked smirk.
All of him? He can do that. He withdraws from her momentarily, his metal hand slipping to her lower back after lifting her legs up around his hips a bit higher, her plea drawing a breathy groan from him as he pauses, pulled back enough to look at her through his blown pupils. “Y’wanna guide me, love?” He hums, a slow rock of his hips that presses the tip of his length against her clit with a wicked smirk.
stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds
