NERON
the hailstorm
Neron rumbled out a laugh against Morgan’s thigh, his lips ghosting over her flesh in another kiss. ”I’ll consider myself told,” he said, glancing up at her with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t know whether or not she was serious, but all things considered even with the heat of their emotions, Morgan was still a formidable woman, and Neron wasn’t about to overstep her boundaries.
Well. He was. But not with his teeth. Her gasp pulled at all the parts of him still reeling from the effects of the bite, much as it was beginning to fade by now, and Neron felt himself rising to the challenge to draw out more from Morgan, to have her singing with the pleasure of him. And whilst he couldn’t rise so much in the conventional sense any more, that wouldn’t stop him.
Arching her hips forward, Neron bent to his task with enthusiasm, tongue flicking out to seek her wetness, to taste the sweetness of her (in whatever way he could). He hummed against her, a hand squeezing her curves, ears keen for her reactions to guide him.
Well. He was. But not with his teeth. Her gasp pulled at all the parts of him still reeling from the effects of the bite, much as it was beginning to fade by now, and Neron felt himself rising to the challenge to draw out more from Morgan, to have her singing with the pleasure of him. And whilst he couldn’t rise so much in the conventional sense any more, that wouldn’t stop him.
Arching her hips forward, Neron bent to his task with enthusiasm, tongue flicking out to seek her wetness, to taste the sweetness of her (in whatever way he could). He hummed against her, a hand squeezing her curves, ears keen for her reactions to guide him.
