[ Her eyes are up and sharp on her as she keeps her spot, gives her enough space at least let her push herself up without tumbling over with the motion. Because she's slick and warm against her tongue, and a flick against as she settles and as she moves up, she brings her hands up and around, curving across Parker's thighs, up to brace against her hips and press her fingers to steady where Parker balanced.
There's no break from it now, and she gives then as much as she can, the way she knows how Parker likes. The way that leaves her panting and wretched most, and presses against it mercilessly. No build, just to take, take, take. Because she wants to hear her, wants to let her have this because she's too aware that come morning she won't be here. There's nothing for it, she will fight for the hive. But these things, they are all Parker's. Given: sweet, the nuzzling kisses of early morning that are denied later. Given: breathless gasps of each other name like God was to be found in it.
She tilts her face up at the angle, one hand drawing around after a moment, slipping against her body slowly - over the flat of her stomach, ( feels the tremour in her and she hums so sweetly back in response, softly where her mouth is close over her ) and brings her fingers up between her legs - and no, the angle isn't perfect. Learning every which way with her, eager to do it as often as she can, but it's purposeful as she flicks her tongue against her clit, sweetly distracting as she teases, gentle, not too much ( everything right now, she knows, is too much ) as her fingers press into her over again. Wet and easy and, it's not fast, but it doesn't let up, working her against both in time. Unforgiving sort of dance. ]
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There's no break from it now, and she gives then as much as she can, the way she knows how Parker likes. The way that leaves her panting and wretched most, and presses against it mercilessly. No build, just to take, take, take. Because she wants to hear her, wants to let her have this because she's too aware that come morning she won't be here. There's nothing for it, she will fight for the hive. But these things, they are all Parker's. Given: sweet, the nuzzling kisses of early morning that are denied later. Given: breathless gasps of each other name like God was to be found in it.
She tilts her face up at the angle, one hand drawing around after a moment, slipping against her body slowly - over the flat of her stomach, ( feels the tremour in her and she hums so sweetly back in response, softly where her mouth is close over her ) and brings her fingers up between her legs - and no, the angle isn't perfect. Learning every which way with her, eager to do it as often as she can, but it's purposeful as she flicks her tongue against her clit, sweetly distracting as she teases, gentle, not too much ( everything right now, she knows, is too much ) as her fingers press into her over again. Wet and easy and, it's not fast, but it doesn't let up, working her against both in time. Unforgiving sort of dance. ]