It's a little hint of a stretch, her arms pinned further up, and the combination of that plus the picking up of his pace have her groaning into the kiss, greedily returning it, demanding more. The surprise at herself for offering him a second (and more) night(s) has all but faded now - replaced by hazy, building pleasure. With each deeper thrust, she melts into the bed, the walls of her pussy clamping around his cock, tight and slick. By the time he breaks the kiss to bring up beeswax, she feels delirious again, built up slowly into a needy frenzy.
"Please - good..." Beeswax on her breasts sounds decadent, and she's on board, but more of this. More of this now.
He watches her losing herself under him, feels it in the way her body is starting to tighten around his, and he adds a stronger pulse to the magic filling his length, to match it to his pulse as he fucks up into her. Faster. Faster still. His teeth graze along her shoulder as he focuses on holding his own pleasure back, on tipping her over again instead.
She understandably loses her mind over the heady mix of magic and sex. Maybe sex should always be like this, maybe she should just find more fae to fuck instead of regular humans.
It's impossible to resist reaching out with her own again. If magic is a series of energies, then she doesn't need the tattoos or the grimoire or the circles to do it. It can be like baking is for her - instinctive.
She lets hers surge out of her to wrap around his. It's enough to carry her closer to the edge, and the rest is taken care of by his magnificent cock just pounding into her.
He bites her shoulder, she squeezes him between her thighs, and comes with little scream - that good.
It's rare for someone who can use magic to not have been born with it, so the idea that a witch needed spells or books solely to let it flow was rather silly. Perhaps they were what helped them direct it more precisely, but magic was in their blood as much as it was his.
When he felt hers reaching out to him, tangling with his, he welcomed it and let his own fill those gaps that were left by hers playing along. He could feel that tension building, and then she was tightening around him again, clamping her body around his and he ground in, careful to let go of her wrists so he didn't hurt her as he emptied himself again. His magic rippled, skin glimmering as he let it just dissipate with the release from both of them.
Her hands freed, his making tangling with her almost exactly around the moment her orgasm breaks, she reaches for him greedily. Wraps her arms under his and presses her blunt nails against his shoulders, holding him through waves of intense pleasure.
She is so charmed and delighted by the way his glamour drops, that she forgets to think that for a moment it felt like his dick inside her was magic - imagine that, magic dildo. But he's all golden and supernatural and wild and she is so pleased about it that she lifts her head and nudges his chin to the side with her nose, then bites that spot where his shoulder meets his neck.
He did encourage it, and fates know he's earned it right now.
He let out a groan, hips grinding in against hers almost of their own volition when she bit him. Blunt teeth left little marks, and he let out a rumbling purr of approval, of pleasure as he turned to nibble his way up to kiss where, later, he might make his own mark. They did have all night, after all. "Wicked witch."
"Wicked fae," she shoots right back, her voice cracking a bit by this point. He really is going to take her through multiple rounds of earthshaking orgasms? Must be wicked!
She isn't purring, but the hum that comes from low in her chest feels like a purr, as she comes down from that high, and runs her hands down his back.
He grinned, not at all upset at the parallel, since it was true.
And for the rest of that evening, including a pause to magic that bottle of wine from downstairs up to join them, he showed her just how wicked they could both be together.
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"Please - good..." Beeswax on her breasts sounds decadent, and she's on board, but more of this. More of this now.
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no subject
It's impossible to resist reaching out with her own again. If magic is a series of energies, then she doesn't need the tattoos or the grimoire or the circles to do it. It can be like baking is for her - instinctive.
She lets hers surge out of her to wrap around his. It's enough to carry her closer to the edge, and the rest is taken care of by his magnificent cock just pounding into her.
He bites her shoulder, she squeezes him between her thighs, and comes with little scream - that good.
no subject
When he felt hers reaching out to him, tangling with his, he welcomed it and let his own fill those gaps that were left by hers playing along. He could feel that tension building, and then she was tightening around him again, clamping her body around his and he ground in, careful to let go of her wrists so he didn't hurt her as he emptied himself again. His magic rippled, skin glimmering as he let it just dissipate with the release from both of them.
no subject
She is so charmed and delighted by the way his glamour drops, that she forgets to think that for a moment it felt like his dick inside her was magic - imagine that, magic dildo. But he's all golden and supernatural and wild and she is so pleased about it that she lifts her head and nudges his chin to the side with her nose, then bites that spot where his shoulder meets his neck.
He did encourage it, and fates know he's earned it right now.
no subject
no subject
She isn't purring, but the hum that comes from low in her chest feels like a purr, as she comes down from that high, and runs her hands down his back.
(wrap? Wrap)
And for the rest of that evening, including a pause to magic that bottle of wine from downstairs up to join them, he showed her just how wicked they could both be together.