( it's the words that do it, more than the action. focus on it. mako closes his eyes, teeth catching at his bottom lip. his brow is furrowed, and his hips twitch upwards into her hand, the ministrations of which are woefully short. he actually lets out his breath in a soft whine of sound when she pulls her hand away. he's about to open his mouth to complain — actually complain, when the touch of her thumb is against his parted lips.
he would trust her with anything. life, love, ruination. he would die for her without question and his only real regret would be only doing it once. it costs him nothing to obey. so he does as she asks, and the reward is.
limitless. she lowers herself down and not only is the visual probably the best thing he's ever seen in a sexual context (his dick twitches, hard, and trying not to move beyond that is suddenly something that takes the entirety of his concentration) but the heat, the pressure of her thighs. the absolute submission of what she's asking him to do. he raises his hands up half off his stomach because the urge to just touch her is so overwhelming he literally can't do or think of anything else. his hands are still bound, so all this results in is him laying the length of his forearms along her back, fingers twisting to leave gentle pressure along her spine.
he noses up against her lips, tongue darting out to part them. he's always loved the way she tastes. the frustration of not being able to use his hands is... considerable, but that just means he has to get creative. he tongues her clit, waiting for the telltale tremble of her thighs when he's doing it just how she likes. then he taps his fingers against her shoulder, nails dragging faintly down. not a word? well, he doesn't need them to tell her harder.)
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he would trust her with anything. life, love, ruination. he would die for her without question and his only real regret would be only doing it once. it costs him nothing to obey. so he does as she asks, and the reward is.
limitless. she lowers herself down and not only is the visual probably the best thing he's ever seen in a sexual context (his dick twitches, hard, and trying not to move beyond that is suddenly something that takes the entirety of his concentration) but the heat, the pressure of her thighs. the absolute submission of what she's asking him to do. he raises his hands up half off his stomach because the urge to just touch her is so overwhelming he literally can't do or think of anything else. his hands are still bound, so all this results in is him laying the length of his forearms along her back, fingers twisting to leave gentle pressure along her spine.
he noses up against her lips, tongue darting out to part them. he's always loved the way she tastes. the frustration of not being able to use his hands is... considerable, but that just means he has to get creative. he tongues her clit, waiting for the telltale tremble of her thighs when he's doing it just how she likes. then he taps his fingers against her shoulder, nails dragging faintly down. not a word? well, he doesn't need them to tell her harder. )