Rhailo knew from moment one, when she had taken his company back in the club, she would never be free of Demagol again. In one way or another, she was his, and to even hold up that mask of indifference she wore at times was taxing. That buxom physique of hers squirmed to meet his, writhing while lips conquered hers. The Auroun wasn't completely in control of the movements, sly hips snake-like and wanton to steal his attention like there was no other focal point between them. There couldn't be. Not with curves and supple flesh pressing eager to the outline of his arousal, it was paramount the Mandalorian reciprocate her affections. The woman could taste juices on his tongue, and how he had licked her fingers clean to savor them... Oh, she was so wet for him, Rhailo practically dripped her adoration in a slick coat between her thighs. Fatigue wasn't an issue anymore.
There was no room to be tired in their bed.
Gentleness wasn't sought in this meeting of tongues, hers flickering wildly to drink down hungry vocals. Whether Demagol reminded her of beast or machine, his hands felt all too human, and hugging her close with fondling palms and exploitative digits released an urgency in her whimpers. So breathy and pleading, the sounds hitched from her raw throat and crawled their way towards his lips. There they could be swallowed, stolen, claimed. Taken by the male to do as he wished for him, to fuel a demanding libido with the utterances of a creature blind to her deviancy. This was the only way Rhailo knew, tangled among sheets with a body larger and more powerful than she ever hoped to be, and she was his. All his. There was comfort in that sort of possession, and the Auroun had unknowingly been in search of such luxuries.
Crossing boundaries was all too easy when in this state of mind. That sightless, weightless trance.
A hand parted from her body to edge down his skin tight cover, releasing a thrum of warm girth that immediately nestled back between her cheeks. How right it felt, cradling the pulses of his member so close to her tight hole. Almost unfairly so. Rhailo shuddered between attempts to drag her hips as a means to guide Demagol's sex through the cushioned embrace, but he had to pull off the mess of his garments, and it made the act difficult. In one hand his fingers would be taken, and she made her intention known with sucking messy taunts against the tops of his digits. Forming a seal with her mouth, the Auroun slurped the index finger in her grasp, throating it with a flutter of pigmentless lashes. Every part of him burned hot against the expanse of her back, reminding the woman of being pinned to the shower wall; ensuring there would be more memories made in this captive hold.
Demagol was right in his assessment. The Auroun knew damn well what to expect as his mouth parted to produce a globule of spit, moving the fluid low when there was enough lubrication to jerk along his member. Harsh strokes with no pause. The kind that hinted at his urgency, giving way to words she wanted to collect individually and frame in her mind for future recollection. Never in her wildest dreams had Rhailo thought the hunter would be giving in to her, as just a few hours before, there was a bounty looming over that angelic frame. A price tag. To be bought and sold and hustled between countless organizations dotting the Nar Shaddaa skyline like unholy effigies of ulterior motive. Now though, with his length saturated in applied saliva, Rhailo was his. Not theirs. The woman eased as best she could when the head was crowned by tight rings of constraints, her lusting hole spreading while he pushed through the taut gathering of muscles.
Naturally there was resistance, but Demagol slid through it, past her body's attempts at pushing him away. Rhailo found herself gasping around his finger she sucked, letting it be forgotten briefly while messy kisses covered her mouth again and again. Taking every moan, every harsh hiss and ragged whisper of desire, these were hard earned by the Mandalorian. To covet them wasn't selfish-- No one else made her feel this way. However she may have felt, it was new and invigorating. A surge of enlightenment that transcended the boundaries she often tread. Treading lightly was their game until now, with the fear of a fall looming in the background to sober her senses. It wasn't until he had buried himself deep in that craven tightness that she truly, and irrevocably, accepted him.
Just as Rhailo was Demagol's to use, so too was he now an instrument at her disposal. A weapon. More. Something more she didn't know how to express in this hazy cloud of senses. Something hot and bestial and provoking. He made her think and he made her yearn, to be more and to have more. It was intoxicating how close the two had become in such a short period of time, but the Auroun was willing to overwhelm her senses with every inch of him. Was this how it felt to be his? To be absorbed by these foreign emotions that couldn't be contained? Meeting his hips as they eased to base his cock, cheeks parted for better access, spreading to envelope the invading force with ardent squirming. How tight she was around his circumference, riding it with the shove of her body back into the Mandalorians. How incredibly devious the woman seemed in that state of requited longing.
And he sang for her with that groan, pleaded back with that deep sound enhanced by intimacy. Her waist struggled, thrashing her lower half in an involuntary manner where he was sheathed, drawing the most desperate of whimpers with such ease. Every slicked inch hurt her, setting off the alarms of pain through confused nerves, but there was pleasure in that pain. There was more than ache. Riding back up in a brief attempt to escape, Rhailo slammed herself back down to swallow his cock again; forcing both individuals to revel in how the hold felt. A sensual escape from the rest of their woes; she found closure hidden behind sharp blue orbs. Gods, she wanted everything he had to offer. All of it. Every violent tantrum and every debauchery. Every kiss and soft spoken word. Every worry and fret and feverish demand...
Rhailo wanted Demagol in ways she had never thought herself capable.
And it was mutual, wasn't it? When the Mandalorian uttered that promise, Rhailo gave the fingers she refused to remove from her features a long and lusty siphon of appreciation. Trying to fill as many of her orifices with his affections as she could manage while still receiving his kisses. While still being passionately overwhelmed by that normally stoic visage. No one else needed to know this side of Demagol; she wouldn't share him. Never. That much she promised him in return, the unspoken message sealed with flickering orbs opening in half lidded ascension. To peer over his expressions while her sideways form was fondled and fucked by this man. This man, who would never have fit the bill before that chance encounter, was now hers.
And Gods, she wanted him to fill her with every bit of that essence until there was no true definition between their writhing shapes.
There was no room to be tired in their bed.
Gentleness wasn't sought in this meeting of tongues, hers flickering wildly to drink down hungry vocals. Whether Demagol reminded her of beast or machine, his hands felt all too human, and hugging her close with fondling palms and exploitative digits released an urgency in her whimpers. So breathy and pleading, the sounds hitched from her raw throat and crawled their way towards his lips. There they could be swallowed, stolen, claimed. Taken by the male to do as he wished for him, to fuel a demanding libido with the utterances of a creature blind to her deviancy. This was the only way Rhailo knew, tangled among sheets with a body larger and more powerful than she ever hoped to be, and she was his. All his. There was comfort in that sort of possession, and the Auroun had unknowingly been in search of such luxuries.
Crossing boundaries was all too easy when in this state of mind. That sightless, weightless trance.
A hand parted from her body to edge down his skin tight cover, releasing a thrum of warm girth that immediately nestled back between her cheeks. How right it felt, cradling the pulses of his member so close to her tight hole. Almost unfairly so. Rhailo shuddered between attempts to drag her hips as a means to guide Demagol's sex through the cushioned embrace, but he had to pull off the mess of his garments, and it made the act difficult. In one hand his fingers would be taken, and she made her intention known with sucking messy taunts against the tops of his digits. Forming a seal with her mouth, the Auroun slurped the index finger in her grasp, throating it with a flutter of pigmentless lashes. Every part of him burned hot against the expanse of her back, reminding the woman of being pinned to the shower wall; ensuring there would be more memories made in this captive hold.
Demagol was right in his assessment. The Auroun knew damn well what to expect as his mouth parted to produce a globule of spit, moving the fluid low when there was enough lubrication to jerk along his member. Harsh strokes with no pause. The kind that hinted at his urgency, giving way to words she wanted to collect individually and frame in her mind for future recollection. Never in her wildest dreams had Rhailo thought the hunter would be giving in to her, as just a few hours before, there was a bounty looming over that angelic frame. A price tag. To be bought and sold and hustled between countless organizations dotting the Nar Shaddaa skyline like unholy effigies of ulterior motive. Now though, with his length saturated in applied saliva, Rhailo was his. Not theirs. The woman eased as best she could when the head was crowned by tight rings of constraints, her lusting hole spreading while he pushed through the taut gathering of muscles.
Naturally there was resistance, but Demagol slid through it, past her body's attempts at pushing him away. Rhailo found herself gasping around his finger she sucked, letting it be forgotten briefly while messy kisses covered her mouth again and again. Taking every moan, every harsh hiss and ragged whisper of desire, these were hard earned by the Mandalorian. To covet them wasn't selfish-- No one else made her feel this way. However she may have felt, it was new and invigorating. A surge of enlightenment that transcended the boundaries she often tread. Treading lightly was their game until now, with the fear of a fall looming in the background to sober her senses. It wasn't until he had buried himself deep in that craven tightness that she truly, and irrevocably, accepted him.
Just as Rhailo was Demagol's to use, so too was he now an instrument at her disposal. A weapon. More. Something more she didn't know how to express in this hazy cloud of senses. Something hot and bestial and provoking. He made her think and he made her yearn, to be more and to have more. It was intoxicating how close the two had become in such a short period of time, but the Auroun was willing to overwhelm her senses with every inch of him. Was this how it felt to be his? To be absorbed by these foreign emotions that couldn't be contained? Meeting his hips as they eased to base his cock, cheeks parted for better access, spreading to envelope the invading force with ardent squirming. How tight she was around his circumference, riding it with the shove of her body back into the Mandalorians. How incredibly devious the woman seemed in that state of requited longing.
And he sang for her with that groan, pleaded back with that deep sound enhanced by intimacy. Her waist struggled, thrashing her lower half in an involuntary manner where he was sheathed, drawing the most desperate of whimpers with such ease. Every slicked inch hurt her, setting off the alarms of pain through confused nerves, but there was pleasure in that pain. There was more than ache. Riding back up in a brief attempt to escape, Rhailo slammed herself back down to swallow his cock again; forcing both individuals to revel in how the hold felt. A sensual escape from the rest of their woes; she found closure hidden behind sharp blue orbs. Gods, she wanted everything he had to offer. All of it. Every violent tantrum and every debauchery. Every kiss and soft spoken word. Every worry and fret and feverish demand...
Rhailo wanted Demagol in ways she had never thought herself capable.
And it was mutual, wasn't it? When the Mandalorian uttered that promise, Rhailo gave the fingers she refused to remove from her features a long and lusty siphon of appreciation. Trying to fill as many of her orifices with his affections as she could manage while still receiving his kisses. While still being passionately overwhelmed by that normally stoic visage. No one else needed to know this side of Demagol; she wouldn't share him. Never. That much she promised him in return, the unspoken message sealed with flickering orbs opening in half lidded ascension. To peer over his expressions while her sideways form was fondled and fucked by this man. This man, who would never have fit the bill before that chance encounter, was now hers.
And Gods, she wanted him to fill her with every bit of that essence until there was no true definition between their writhing shapes.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-24-2015, 05:10 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-24-2015, 07:28 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-24-2015, 10:34 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-25-2015, 02:15 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-25-2015, 05:41 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-25-2015, 10:04 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-26-2015, 12:39 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-26-2015, 05:14 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-26-2015, 08:10 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-26-2015, 11:16 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-27-2015, 11:04 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-27-2015, 06:11 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-27-2015, 11:22 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-28-2015, 01:35 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-28-2015, 04:19 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-28-2015, 08:42 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-28-2015, 10:57 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-29-2015, 01:42 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-29-2015, 01:35 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-29-2015, 08:11 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-30-2015, 05:16 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 04-30-2015, 10:09 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-01-2015, 02:18 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-01-2015, 11:44 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-01-2015, 09:04 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-03-2015, 05:45 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-05-2015, 08:47 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-08-2015, 09:36 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-14-2015, 12:04 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-16-2015, 10:54 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 05-19-2015, 12:17 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 06-02-2015, 08:22 AM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 06-29-2015, 07:51 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 08-05-2015, 01:33 PM
Tread Lightly [closed] - by Kat - 08-27-2015, 03:35 PM