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06-17-2016, 10:40 PM
 | destroy your own plan for a name, fame and crumbs you're dumb
Again he braves dark territory, neck arching to reach eager withers— there upon the speckled hide he places another harsh yet appealing bite, blunt ivory sinking into soft flesh as her lips part. Out from Nazli stumbles the most sickeningly sweet gasp, although it wasn't all surprise this time around, lashes fluttering at the feeling of such pleasurable pain. She smirks up at him when he withdraws, eyes clouded over with her own uncontrollable desires as she offers him another few words of her own. "Really shouldn't be wasting our time with all this cleaning if I'm just going to get dirty again." The last few breathes are short, laboured in her attempt of hiding the raw need behind her actions. Let's see if he understood the wording she used, if he would catch what kind of dirty she meant or would let it sail right over his head. And he lets her breathe so heavily into the cusp of his ear, her lids falling for a moment as she smiles, succeeding in getting him ensnared. And into him he falls, a heavy weight against her breast as she listens to him ask for a name in return. Volterra, Volterra— she commits the name to memory (she knows it now, they all do), making sure that it surpasses the boundary of conscious. "I'm known as Nazli," this body is known as Amara. But she sees no need to offer that excess information. It was only a hassle. Instead she kept quiet, giving him only his name. Her eyes wander over taught muscle, lips reaching out to trail along Volterra's thick neck, wishing to place sharp nips down the most sensitive places. She looks up into his eyes momentarily, whispering into his hot flesh, "I'm all yours, stattlich." Into the foreign language she dips her fingers, testing the waters of a tongue they knew minimally. She offers one final nip, body swaying with the waves as she looks to the shore, and then to Volterra. "Come," she beckons him towards dry land by swinging her body around, hip pressing towards his right shoulder as she tries to lure him out of the water and into the sand. "Unless you're too impatient—" The last word drags on as Nazli swings her head back, strolling forward into shallower waters with her quarters swaying tantalizingly out of reach of the black brute. |
@Volterra
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