Cerulean Cape [m] We had a place that we could call "home".

If he were to grow tired, he did not relent; every slam of his hips against the stranger ensnared him, drove him towards wanting more and more and more of her. He felt himself quaking as he came to completion but that did not stop him either, and he would keep on performing even as his limbs began to quake and the fire of his loins was doused. He was young, virile, exactly what she had been seeking, so it did not take much before he was consumed by the act again. She did not seem troubled by his endless lust — but even if she had tried to pull away from him at any point, Firefly would've grasped her sides with more purpose, and with that thought in mind, bolstered by it, turned on by it, the fire inside him raging again — he reached for her scruff and gripped it in his teeth, making it certain that she was his. Erzulie, Erzulie, Erzulie — his mind buzzed, Rosalyn, he might've moaned between those teeth, but thinking of her only made his grip tighten from rage.