[ Her lips hungrily take in his own as he meets her for a kiss. Sweet, secret kisses in a garden, hidden and guarded by propriety, are not like those borne of passion. She drinks him in, breathy against his mouth as soon as he's bare against her, the light press of him against parts he's already made sensitive sending another shiver that spikes up her spine.
Her breath cuts when he enters her, gripping his upper arms not out of discomfort, but the intense pleasure of feeling him intrude. Back arching against the bed, trembling against him and clenching around him, she braces for the first of his thrusts-- by now familiar to the intense lightening storm of white-hot pleasure that it sparks within her body each they initially join-- and answers with a needy, rising grind of her own, following him.
The rhythm builds along with the heat, punctuated with needy kisses on any part of him that she can manage, be that his lips, his jaw, or his neck, tasting both his saliva and sweat between needy pants and groans. She's rough, then soft, both with touch and her mouth upon her skin, and her movements aspire to match his. Shifting slightly beneath him, Pyra bends a knee, creating some room between them-- breaking them apart if she must-- and lifts up a leg over his shoulder. When they come together next, it's thunder within a storm, her pants becoming more audible than her intermittent moans from before, her arms more desperately clinging to him or wildly running through his hair. It fees as if he reaches more than before, the new angle adding in both depth and the way his hips wetly slap and grind against hers when he disappears completely into her.
By now it's effortless to meet him, so attuned she is to his body-- not to say that she isn't working, sweating, chasing that pleasure whenever they connect and part. He'll send her off that same climax for a second time, hips snapping strongly against his, lips open against his neck as she's overcome with a powerful bliss that leaves her shuddering against him. ]
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Her breath cuts when he enters her, gripping his upper arms not out of discomfort, but the intense pleasure of feeling him intrude. Back arching against the bed, trembling against him and clenching around him, she braces for the first of his thrusts-- by now familiar to the intense lightening storm of white-hot pleasure that it sparks within her body each they initially join-- and answers with a needy, rising grind of her own, following him.
The rhythm builds along with the heat, punctuated with needy kisses on any part of him that she can manage, be that his lips, his jaw, or his neck, tasting both his saliva and sweat between needy pants and groans. She's rough, then soft, both with touch and her mouth upon her skin, and her movements aspire to match his. Shifting slightly beneath him, Pyra bends a knee, creating some room between them-- breaking them apart if she must-- and lifts up a leg over his shoulder. When they come together next, it's thunder within a storm, her pants becoming more audible than her intermittent moans from before, her arms more desperately clinging to him or wildly running through his hair. It fees as if he reaches more than before, the new angle adding in both depth and the way his hips wetly slap and grind against hers when he disappears completely into her.
By now it's effortless to meet him, so attuned she is to his body-- not to say that she isn't working, sweating, chasing that pleasure whenever they connect and part. He'll send her off that same climax for a second time, hips snapping strongly against his, lips open against his neck as she's overcome with a powerful bliss that leaves her shuddering against him. ]