I’m not an artist I’m a fucking work of art
A low groan rumbles in Jack's chest and throat, his eyes slipping shut to fully enjoy the feel of her tongue curling around him. He's not usually one for it, in truth, because so much of it is obligatory for a lot of people, and for a guy who reads minds, it's a bit of a buzzkill. Raza, though? The smuggler loses himself to her, hissing in another breath and letting his hips tease forward to meet the hot, wet press of her mouth.
But that's over before he's got much of a chance to really enjoy himself, the sparks of her pleasure enough for him to anticipate what's to come (ha). Stepping back to give her room to rise to her feet, Jack's eyes roam over her; she's all bronze skin and swaying hips and a sweet, wet cunt, and her beckoning is not wasted on Jack. Not for a second.
He steps forward, gripping her hips and pressing in. There's no teasing now, and Jack fills her to the brim in one smooth, hard thrust, using the leverage of the bar to brace against. "Fuck, Raza. Did you get fuckin' tighter since I had you last?" He half growls the words, rocking back and filling her again, his pace slow - but it won't be that way for long.
But that's over before he's got much of a chance to really enjoy himself, the sparks of her pleasure enough for him to anticipate what's to come (ha). Stepping back to give her room to rise to her feet, Jack's eyes roam over her; she's all bronze skin and swaying hips and a sweet, wet cunt, and her beckoning is not wasted on Jack. Not for a second.
He steps forward, gripping her hips and pressing in. There's no teasing now, and Jack fills her to the brim in one smooth, hard thrust, using the leverage of the bar to brace against. "Fuck, Raza. Did you get fuckin' tighter since I had you last?" He half growls the words, rocking back and filling her again, his pace slow - but it won't be that way for long.
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
