Dragoncrest Cliffs & all of the ghouls come out to play (mtr.)

lmao best way to celebrate amirite

Every thrust was deep and hard, claiming, her groans quiet and muffled in the back of her throat. God, she wanted to kiss him, touch him further, but the only thing she could do was to lean back into her hocks, grip him like a vice. And then she came with an airy, soft cry just as he and his knot did, rubbing against every sugary spot inside of her—still wanted him deeper.

Aure tugged gently against him, letting the weight of him press her ever further into the loam. His words made her give a few little ruts of her hips, quivering at gasping with oversensitivity but still want-want-wanting... and whimpering at the loss of stretch within her.

After he’d gone to earth, she trailed after him in suit, and wasted no time nestling into him, her own breath shivery and unfocused. Trying regain some sense of herself, trembling as she was, she curved herself towards him, tail feathering modestly about her—fuck, even his laugh made her want to rip into him all over again.

”As gorgeous as you preformed,” she breathed, edging closer and pressing herself into the gasping column of his neck, ”I want you to make a mess of me next time, comoara mea. I want you to feel me around you longer. And I want those darling noises of yours again. Mine, as they should be,” she lowed, speaking entirely without filter; peering up at him, ravished and dotingly from under her lashes.

”I would like a third time, too,” she breathed, unaware that she was alluding to this—him—having been her first. ”I never want to not want you, make love to you. Even like this, you make me feel...” The pallid she-wolf became bashful then, giving a tender shake of her head; as if lecherous words hadn’t just been strung from her chords. With that in mind, Aure eased herself into him and began to preen demurely at his throat, murmuring softly; a gentle growl purling from her own.