crossmyheartandhope | Overflow post

Ah--

[The problem is that it's all too easy to go from riding out one orgasm to cresting towards another, especially given the steady heat of his mouth and the soft, irregular brush of his hands and the muffled grunt into where her legs meet. So instead of breaking away, she edges even closer--hooking her knees over his shoulders so her (still not quite visible) heels can fidget into the feathers further down his back, as her hands clutch a little more desperately at the base of his wings]

[He whines again softly, at the feel of her hands clutching tight - at the pressure of her heels digging into the muscles of his back. He shifts a little, not quite squirming but close, the cooldown definitely reached by now]

[The sound of her and the feel of her and the way she moves - all of it is intoxicating, and he wants suddenly very badly to feel her shake herself apart again. He redoubles his efforts, lips and tongue moving against her, the actions attentive and eager]

[Her answering whine is a lot less soft and (almost) shamelessly needy, and she rocks closer best she can. His little reactions when she digs more into his back are not even the main reason she does them, but are certainly not an unwelcome side-effect of hanging on for dear life.

His enthusiasm only adds to her already unsteady rhythm, though she tries her best to last a little longer since it feels so intensely good. Good enough in fact that she can't find the words to begin to express it, but hopefully her tone as she whimpers out his name will at least give an idea]

[That answering whine is very good indeed, and does his best to encourage another, and another after that]

[He can't use his fingers right now - not with these nails - but he does have a lot of feathers, and the thought strikes him, suddenly, that maybe those can be put to better use. He folds the talons in against his palm, so that they can't do any damage - drifts his hand down, between her legs, to rub the back of it up against her, a thousand tiny points of softness, while his mouth stays busy]

[She makes a short little "oh" of surprise, as that option had not occurred to her, either. It soon closes to a throaty groan as her hips begin to shudder again, helplessly grinding into the wet heat of his mouth and the silky-smooth firmness of his hand--into his warmth and his breath and his desire-- With a helpless cry of his name, she's tugged over the edge again, clutching tight at his back for dear life]

[He makes a small sound against her, encouraging - continues to work her through it, soft and coaxing]

[The other hand drifts upward, just as gentle, to stroke against her thigh]

[She shivers hard, still twitching against him]

Nn...C-Cross...

[When the twitching has mostly settled, he eases back, careful - presses a kiss to her thigh, and then another, no more than a soft brush of his lips]

Edited 2020-11-01 06:15 (UTC)

[She is slow to uncurl from around him, still shuddering with aftershocks with each kiss. But eventually enough tension leaches from her body that she can finally come down, breaths heavy and voiced. Limbs too leaden to tug him up to her, she does the next best thing and sinks down into his lap to meld against his chest. What else is being a ghost for if not phasing through objects for good causes?]

[The hidden perks of being a ghost]

[He shivers as she settles against him - gets his arms up around her, to draw her close]

...you okay?

[Makes a low shuddery sound, nosing into his neck and light brushing over where his pulse point would be]

[He shivers again, harder, as she nuzzles his neck - can't quite help but shift, against the weight of her in his lap]

[One of his hands comes up, careful, to stroke through the fine hairs at the base of her neck]

[She shifts to fit better against him as well, tired but not apparently not that tired, doing a slightly less sloppy kisses down his neck]

[His breath catches a little, at the feel of those kisses; he tips his head a little, to one side to allow her better access]

[She continues, soft and breathy, a cold line of kisses down to his collarbone, increasingly longer nips and kisses as she goes]

[He makes a soft sound - shifts against her, eyes fluttering closed]

[The hand at the nape of her neck begins to wander downward, exploring]

[She shivers as well, her shirt long gone itchy against her skin. Her mouth continues, however, suckling chilly little marks over the soft skin of his neck and back up to behind his ear. Her touch begins to travel as well, cold spots trailing from the crown of his head down his back to the tips of his wings, obviously present but light as air]

[His hands drift down, and down, over her back - find the hem of her shirt and then drift upward again, running along bare skin, some odd mix of two-soft feathers (slightly damp on one side now) and too-sharp talons, though he is being very careful with the claws[

[He groans, softly, at the feel of her mouth, and at the motion of her hands, soft and chill and teasing]

[She does not seem to care if he's being careful or not, goosebumps prickling at the feel of talon and feather alike. Her breath goes heavy against his skin, though the ghostly touch doesn't slow.

It doesn't speed up, either, deliberately tracing over the delicate bones of each wing, gently sweeping down each feather in sequence until meeting at the middle of his back, at the bases of his wings.]

[The cooldown is long since past, and with her position, it's easy to feel the effect she's having on him - the proof of his interest obvious through his pants, but also the way he presses into the contact, arches and shivers, when her fingers continue that slow exploration]

[The hands under her shirt are restless, now, roaming like they're trying to take everything in all at once]

[Rucked up past shirt and undershirt there's nothing underneath, just a few light scars over the expanse of cool skin. She presses into the touch, humming into the contact as she sucks a little more firmly at his neck.

She continues over his back as well, cold pressing gentle lines down his back and to the base of his tail even as there's a soft pressure at the base of each wing, pressing into the firm muscle there. But she's soft and yielding against him, hitching in closer despite herself]

[He makes a soft sound, unable to quite bite it down - shifts, and shifts again, unconsciously trying to press into the soft touch of her hands, the not-quite enough pressure of her settled there in his lap]

[His hands keep moving, as though unable to stop - the motion ceaseless, almost greedy, trying to take in everything there is to feel at once]

[Kisses back up to his mouth this time, humming into the warmth of his lips and the taste of her on them. Even as the light, chill pressure ruffles the feathers up his legs, her hands trail down to his rear and sink in, urging him up into her more squarely]

[This time, the sound that leaves him is closer to a whimper. The restless shifting of his hips, those tiny circles, gives way to something more urgent as he presses up harder in response to her coaxing]

[The kiss is eager, almost needy; he licks into her mouth like he needs it to breathe, nipping at her lower lip with his teeth]

[The press of him against her--the heat of his tongue and the tug of his lips, and she whines herself as she rises to meet his enthusiasm--hitching into the shift of his hips and suckling at his tongue. The cold spots continue to run down his calves and up his thighs, then back up his back and wings again. Her hands stay where they are, keeping him fitted tight against her]

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