The groans in his throat as she came were deeper than hers, but no less intense. He rode her climax with her, fingers firm and unyielding even as her folds thickened and tightened around them, as if she were trying to expel him even then. But he was too strong. Too focused. Too mad with her taste and her tightness and her gasping keen of his name.
"Good girl." Finally he felt her flatten on the bed, and Vayne released a long, sated breath through his nose. His lips released their hold, letting her overworked clitoris relax back into its petals. His fingers slowly eased the urgency of their thrusts, curling inside her in a come-hither motion as though he were beckoning a cupbearer. Her folds were still flushed and thick, and he could feel her wetness beneath his fingernails. Slowly, he eased them out of her sex, regarding the warm glaze that coated him to the knuckle...and despite his tongue already swimming with her taste, Vayne put his lips to those fingers and took more of it in. More of her.
More. Yes. He needed more.
His hands went to the rumpled panties around now around her calf, and slipped them off as Tifa lay there, panting and helpless. The rumpled dress around her waist followed next. Her body jostled on the bed as he stripped her, and his vision seemed to crackle at the sight of it. She lay naked before him, flushed with heat, coated with sweat, drained of strength and breath, and still quivering from the rush of pleasure. He'd never seen anything so enraging.
Then her heavy breathing was joined by the sound of buttons coming undone, the rustle of a shirt thrown to the floor, and the clinking of a belt. Then the crease of leather over muscle. Then a low, relieved sigh from his throat.
Vayne rose from his knee, lifting himself up over the edge of the bed. His body slid along hers, and bare skin met bare skin. His arms caged Tifa in, his lips meeting her throat once more, now wet with her passion - and now his freed erection brushed up the inside of her thigh, pulsing with heat and demand. "Do you feel that, Tifa?" he asked, in a whisper dark with promise. "That is what you do to me."
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"Good girl." Finally he felt her flatten on the bed, and Vayne released a long, sated breath through his nose. His lips released their hold, letting her overworked clitoris relax back into its petals. His fingers slowly eased the urgency of their thrusts, curling inside her in a come-hither motion as though he were beckoning a cupbearer. Her folds were still flushed and thick, and he could feel her wetness beneath his fingernails. Slowly, he eased them out of her sex, regarding the warm glaze that coated him to the knuckle...and despite his tongue already swimming with her taste, Vayne put his lips to those fingers and took more of it in. More of her.
More. Yes. He needed more.
His hands went to the rumpled panties around now around her calf, and slipped them off as Tifa lay there, panting and helpless. The rumpled dress around her waist followed next. Her body jostled on the bed as he stripped her, and his vision seemed to crackle at the sight of it. She lay naked before him, flushed with heat, coated with sweat, drained of strength and breath, and still quivering from the rush of pleasure. He'd never seen anything so enraging.
Then her heavy breathing was joined by the sound of buttons coming undone, the rustle of a shirt thrown to the floor, and the clinking of a belt. Then the crease of leather over muscle. Then a low, relieved sigh from his throat.
Vayne rose from his knee, lifting himself up over the edge of the bed. His body slid along hers, and bare skin met bare skin. His arms caged Tifa in, his lips meeting her throat once more, now wet with her passion - and now his freed erection brushed up the inside of her thigh, pulsing with heat and demand. "Do you feel that, Tifa?" he asked, in a whisper dark with promise. "That is what you do to me."