in these trying times we're not trying

Maeve

His teeth press into the tender flesh of her shoulder and her eyes flutter shut as the words are grated out against her skin, "Well we'll just have to work on that." She murmurs, fingers slipping over his shoulder and finding the base of his wing. Her fingers bury themselves into the feathers she finds there, hoping to distract him with her touch instead.

The question makes her giggle even as she squirms in his arms, "Don't get it twisted, love. I'm all for hard. Like things hard. Just don't really like getting splinters in my ass." Maeve snorts softly as her head falls back for him to more easily mouth at the column of her throat. When he doesn't go to the wardrobe, her brows pinch together in confusion as he lowers her onto her back. Expecting to feel the hardness of the wooden floor beneath her, the dense fur is a welcome surprise. Maeve lays back, hands slipping to the front of his chest and down to his waist as he straddles her.

"You aren't going to hurt me." Maeve murmurs, gaze warm as she regards him in the soft light of the room. She sits up carefully, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the stubble on his cheek. "I'll follow your lead and if something is too much I'll say something. Sound fair?" Maeve proposes with an arch of her brow as she draws him down to her to find his lips again.

Poor little girl
still waiting for her happy ending