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It all just seemed too much. She couldn’t seem to get her temperature down, she couldn’t control how her hair stuck to her back or how her skin broke out damp with sweat and caused it to cling. Her breathing wasn’t her own, forced to rapid pants and her heartbeat ran a mile a minute, refusing to still and give the breast it beat against a moment of rest. It was all too much, overwhelming, all encompassing... She was drowning in Iason.
Such a lack of control, such a complete looseness of certainty, had a string of fear slipping through her mind and curling in her belly. Yet, it didn’t last her long. With each shiver of nervousness, Iason’s touch was there to stroke it away and replace it with the tingling warmth of reverent sensation. When it felt as if her heart was due to beat from her chest, his lips were there to remind her of the barrier her breasts presented heating them with the touch of his tongue. Whenever her legs and hips tenses over such a position, unused to sitting in such a prostrate manner, his hand was between her folds, turning her joints loose and her bones soft, all aches evaporating from her muscles.
She didn’t know with way to look, which way to feel, what to notice, hold, touch, see, smell or react to.
The first time they had come together like this, it had all been a sort of blur. She hadn’t been able to direct her thoughts as they turned to the hair that was caught beneath his hand, the embarrassment of nudity, the strange sensation of pressure between her legs, the spark of pain and then the odd and harsh movement of his body as he joined them together. It wasn’t that Persephone had not enjoyed the loss of her chastity to this man. More that the newness of it all had distracted her from truly experiencing it.
And now there was nothing but experience. All of it. Every touch, every sound, every word.
Iason’s words were freeing. He said he liked to hear her. Even in moments were her reactions took over and she was unable to stem the indelicate groans from deep within her core. Her lips parted on a gasp and her breathing became more laboured just at the idea that she could be as her body needed. As if it had been given permission to be bestial.
It was in that moment that Iason shifted his position beneath her and Persephone felt that pressure once more. A bulbous shape pressed against her secrets, slick and damp. She felt her gaze shoot to Iason’s as he stilled, giving her a moment to think. The noise between them quieted, they each seemed to be holding their breath. Persephone could hear nothing but her own heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Her hands rested on Iason’s shoulders. All she had to do was push her weight down, permit him inside her body, and they would be able to revisit the experience that had been lost to her through novelty and surprise.
For a moment, Persephone thought of that spark of pain that she had suffered the first time. The way that that pain had tinged each thrust and movement that followed. She wondered if such a feeling would remain this time. For surely nothing but ecstasy could be felt when your insides already flared hot enough to remove all valid thought? The pain now seemed to come from not having him within her - from being empty and needy.
Watching Iason, his light eyes clear in the dim morning aura, her own fixed upon his, Persephone moved with a glacial slowness.
Settling her knees, she lowered herself downwards. There was resistance for a moment, an issue of angle or the muscles that protected her core, but, after a moment, she felt the pressure increase and the solid entry of Iason into her body. Not wanting to hurry on the pain, Persephone moved still slower, her lips parting on a laboured exhale, a half sigh, as she let her hips fall further and felt him slip deeper. She gasped for a second as she felt him pass over a muscle ribbon within her and then seemed to be holding her breath as she finally settled her whole weight back upon her betrothed, his manhood buried deep with her, and pressing to a point of complete fulfilment.
There had been no pain. Only a delicious pressure and a sense of completion. He filled her body, stretched her wide in a manner that felt good; like the taxing of her brain or the trying of a muscle. Stretched to satisfaction.
Through the entire descend down onto him, Persephone hadn’t broken her gaze with Iason. Hadn’t stopped looking into his eyes. And now she sat, her own orbs wide and rimmed white in the darkness, her breast rising and falling heavily.
She didn’t want to move. She knew that that was how it was done. That she needed to shift herself up and down, the movement securing the coupling as purposeful. But she already felt so wonderfully content. She didn’t want to move. Not ever. Leaning in, Persephone touched her mouth to Iason’s. The kiss was a feather touch, a breath. It was sweet.
“Iason...?” The single word was spoken with a lilt of question, as if to check he was alright, that what she was doing had brought him to an open space of euphoria as it had for her...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It all just seemed too much. She couldn’t seem to get her temperature down, she couldn’t control how her hair stuck to her back or how her skin broke out damp with sweat and caused it to cling. Her breathing wasn’t her own, forced to rapid pants and her heartbeat ran a mile a minute, refusing to still and give the breast it beat against a moment of rest. It was all too much, overwhelming, all encompassing... She was drowning in Iason.
Such a lack of control, such a complete looseness of certainty, had a string of fear slipping through her mind and curling in her belly. Yet, it didn’t last her long. With each shiver of nervousness, Iason’s touch was there to stroke it away and replace it with the tingling warmth of reverent sensation. When it felt as if her heart was due to beat from her chest, his lips were there to remind her of the barrier her breasts presented heating them with the touch of his tongue. Whenever her legs and hips tenses over such a position, unused to sitting in such a prostrate manner, his hand was between her folds, turning her joints loose and her bones soft, all aches evaporating from her muscles.
She didn’t know with way to look, which way to feel, what to notice, hold, touch, see, smell or react to.
The first time they had come together like this, it had all been a sort of blur. She hadn’t been able to direct her thoughts as they turned to the hair that was caught beneath his hand, the embarrassment of nudity, the strange sensation of pressure between her legs, the spark of pain and then the odd and harsh movement of his body as he joined them together. It wasn’t that Persephone had not enjoyed the loss of her chastity to this man. More that the newness of it all had distracted her from truly experiencing it.
And now there was nothing but experience. All of it. Every touch, every sound, every word.
Iason’s words were freeing. He said he liked to hear her. Even in moments were her reactions took over and she was unable to stem the indelicate groans from deep within her core. Her lips parted on a gasp and her breathing became more laboured just at the idea that she could be as her body needed. As if it had been given permission to be bestial.
It was in that moment that Iason shifted his position beneath her and Persephone felt that pressure once more. A bulbous shape pressed against her secrets, slick and damp. She felt her gaze shoot to Iason’s as he stilled, giving her a moment to think. The noise between them quieted, they each seemed to be holding their breath. Persephone could hear nothing but her own heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Her hands rested on Iason’s shoulders. All she had to do was push her weight down, permit him inside her body, and they would be able to revisit the experience that had been lost to her through novelty and surprise.
For a moment, Persephone thought of that spark of pain that she had suffered the first time. The way that that pain had tinged each thrust and movement that followed. She wondered if such a feeling would remain this time. For surely nothing but ecstasy could be felt when your insides already flared hot enough to remove all valid thought? The pain now seemed to come from not having him within her - from being empty and needy.
Watching Iason, his light eyes clear in the dim morning aura, her own fixed upon his, Persephone moved with a glacial slowness.
Settling her knees, she lowered herself downwards. There was resistance for a moment, an issue of angle or the muscles that protected her core, but, after a moment, she felt the pressure increase and the solid entry of Iason into her body. Not wanting to hurry on the pain, Persephone moved still slower, her lips parting on a laboured exhale, a half sigh, as she let her hips fall further and felt him slip deeper. She gasped for a second as she felt him pass over a muscle ribbon within her and then seemed to be holding her breath as she finally settled her whole weight back upon her betrothed, his manhood buried deep with her, and pressing to a point of complete fulfilment.
There had been no pain. Only a delicious pressure and a sense of completion. He filled her body, stretched her wide in a manner that felt good; like the taxing of her brain or the trying of a muscle. Stretched to satisfaction.
Through the entire descend down onto him, Persephone hadn’t broken her gaze with Iason. Hadn’t stopped looking into his eyes. And now she sat, her own orbs wide and rimmed white in the darkness, her breast rising and falling heavily.
She didn’t want to move. She knew that that was how it was done. That she needed to shift herself up and down, the movement securing the coupling as purposeful. But she already felt so wonderfully content. She didn’t want to move. Not ever. Leaning in, Persephone touched her mouth to Iason’s. The kiss was a feather touch, a breath. It was sweet.
“Iason...?” The single word was spoken with a lilt of question, as if to check he was alright, that what she was doing had brought him to an open space of euphoria as it had for her...
It all just seemed too much. She couldn’t seem to get her temperature down, she couldn’t control how her hair stuck to her back or how her skin broke out damp with sweat and caused it to cling. Her breathing wasn’t her own, forced to rapid pants and her heartbeat ran a mile a minute, refusing to still and give the breast it beat against a moment of rest. It was all too much, overwhelming, all encompassing... She was drowning in Iason.
Such a lack of control, such a complete looseness of certainty, had a string of fear slipping through her mind and curling in her belly. Yet, it didn’t last her long. With each shiver of nervousness, Iason’s touch was there to stroke it away and replace it with the tingling warmth of reverent sensation. When it felt as if her heart was due to beat from her chest, his lips were there to remind her of the barrier her breasts presented heating them with the touch of his tongue. Whenever her legs and hips tenses over such a position, unused to sitting in such a prostrate manner, his hand was between her folds, turning her joints loose and her bones soft, all aches evaporating from her muscles.
She didn’t know with way to look, which way to feel, what to notice, hold, touch, see, smell or react to.
The first time they had come together like this, it had all been a sort of blur. She hadn’t been able to direct her thoughts as they turned to the hair that was caught beneath his hand, the embarrassment of nudity, the strange sensation of pressure between her legs, the spark of pain and then the odd and harsh movement of his body as he joined them together. It wasn’t that Persephone had not enjoyed the loss of her chastity to this man. More that the newness of it all had distracted her from truly experiencing it.
And now there was nothing but experience. All of it. Every touch, every sound, every word.
Iason’s words were freeing. He said he liked to hear her. Even in moments were her reactions took over and she was unable to stem the indelicate groans from deep within her core. Her lips parted on a gasp and her breathing became more laboured just at the idea that she could be as her body needed. As if it had been given permission to be bestial.
It was in that moment that Iason shifted his position beneath her and Persephone felt that pressure once more. A bulbous shape pressed against her secrets, slick and damp. She felt her gaze shoot to Iason’s as he stilled, giving her a moment to think. The noise between them quieted, they each seemed to be holding their breath. Persephone could hear nothing but her own heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Her hands rested on Iason’s shoulders. All she had to do was push her weight down, permit him inside her body, and they would be able to revisit the experience that had been lost to her through novelty and surprise.
For a moment, Persephone thought of that spark of pain that she had suffered the first time. The way that that pain had tinged each thrust and movement that followed. She wondered if such a feeling would remain this time. For surely nothing but ecstasy could be felt when your insides already flared hot enough to remove all valid thought? The pain now seemed to come from not having him within her - from being empty and needy.
Watching Iason, his light eyes clear in the dim morning aura, her own fixed upon his, Persephone moved with a glacial slowness.
Settling her knees, she lowered herself downwards. There was resistance for a moment, an issue of angle or the muscles that protected her core, but, after a moment, she felt the pressure increase and the solid entry of Iason into her body. Not wanting to hurry on the pain, Persephone moved still slower, her lips parting on a laboured exhale, a half sigh, as she let her hips fall further and felt him slip deeper. She gasped for a second as she felt him pass over a muscle ribbon within her and then seemed to be holding her breath as she finally settled her whole weight back upon her betrothed, his manhood buried deep with her, and pressing to a point of complete fulfilment.
There had been no pain. Only a delicious pressure and a sense of completion. He filled her body, stretched her wide in a manner that felt good; like the taxing of her brain or the trying of a muscle. Stretched to satisfaction.
Through the entire descend down onto him, Persephone hadn’t broken her gaze with Iason. Hadn’t stopped looking into his eyes. And now she sat, her own orbs wide and rimmed white in the darkness, her breast rising and falling heavily.
She didn’t want to move. She knew that that was how it was done. That she needed to shift herself up and down, the movement securing the coupling as purposeful. But she already felt so wonderfully content. She didn’t want to move. Not ever. Leaning in, Persephone touched her mouth to Iason’s. The kiss was a feather touch, a breath. It was sweet.
“Iason...?” The single word was spoken with a lilt of question, as if to check he was alright, that what she was doing had brought him to an open space of euphoria as it had for her...
It was clear to him when she finally was able to let go, each of them giving permission to one another as they went forward, caring for the other in this entirely new experience for them both. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as she shifted, the weight of her upon him took a mere moment, his hand assisting their joining as there was a slight stall. Blue eyes fluttered in a loss of control and composure as the slick heat he had remembered engulfed him once more, though he tried to keep his gaze locked onto hers even as the slowness dragged a moan from his throat.
This was different from before, less fear, more desire, more of an idea of how things should go. For all their position was different, allowing Persephone control of their joining now, the sensations shooting through him were the same, and once she was fully settled on his lap his eyes closed, lips parting in a reverence. His arms wrapped around her waist held her close as he savored the feeling of being sheathed within her, as if this was where he was always meant to be and any time parted from her was not worth living. Her lips brushing over his own were met with a gentle touch, hands sliding along her hips.
When she moved he knew he would be lost, in this moment as much as he had a rush of the pleasure they had shared in the past, there was still a hint of clarity to his mind that had been utterly destroyed in their combined desires. It felt like the sweetest agony, being still when all he wanted was that joining, that building desire, the release that wracked their bodies with shudders of ecstasy. His name on her lips broke the trance that had held him, and when he responded his voice again was rough with need.
"Persephone.."
It was impossible to resist, any longer, and he claimed her mouth with his own with a desperate groan, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her close as the other gripped at her hip. His mind was racing and yet focused, and he shifted himself beneath her, holding her up with one arm so there was room for him to withdraw and press forward again. Brow furrowed as his expression took on a life of its own, Iason tried to measure his breath and keep his motions slow to start, bringing their hips flush once more before guiding them apart.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was clear to him when she finally was able to let go, each of them giving permission to one another as they went forward, caring for the other in this entirely new experience for them both. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as she shifted, the weight of her upon him took a mere moment, his hand assisting their joining as there was a slight stall. Blue eyes fluttered in a loss of control and composure as the slick heat he had remembered engulfed him once more, though he tried to keep his gaze locked onto hers even as the slowness dragged a moan from his throat.
This was different from before, less fear, more desire, more of an idea of how things should go. For all their position was different, allowing Persephone control of their joining now, the sensations shooting through him were the same, and once she was fully settled on his lap his eyes closed, lips parting in a reverence. His arms wrapped around her waist held her close as he savored the feeling of being sheathed within her, as if this was where he was always meant to be and any time parted from her was not worth living. Her lips brushing over his own were met with a gentle touch, hands sliding along her hips.
When she moved he knew he would be lost, in this moment as much as he had a rush of the pleasure they had shared in the past, there was still a hint of clarity to his mind that had been utterly destroyed in their combined desires. It felt like the sweetest agony, being still when all he wanted was that joining, that building desire, the release that wracked their bodies with shudders of ecstasy. His name on her lips broke the trance that had held him, and when he responded his voice again was rough with need.
"Persephone.."
It was impossible to resist, any longer, and he claimed her mouth with his own with a desperate groan, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her close as the other gripped at her hip. His mind was racing and yet focused, and he shifted himself beneath her, holding her up with one arm so there was room for him to withdraw and press forward again. Brow furrowed as his expression took on a life of its own, Iason tried to measure his breath and keep his motions slow to start, bringing their hips flush once more before guiding them apart.
It was clear to him when she finally was able to let go, each of them giving permission to one another as they went forward, caring for the other in this entirely new experience for them both. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding as she shifted, the weight of her upon him took a mere moment, his hand assisting their joining as there was a slight stall. Blue eyes fluttered in a loss of control and composure as the slick heat he had remembered engulfed him once more, though he tried to keep his gaze locked onto hers even as the slowness dragged a moan from his throat.
This was different from before, less fear, more desire, more of an idea of how things should go. For all their position was different, allowing Persephone control of their joining now, the sensations shooting through him were the same, and once she was fully settled on his lap his eyes closed, lips parting in a reverence. His arms wrapped around her waist held her close as he savored the feeling of being sheathed within her, as if this was where he was always meant to be and any time parted from her was not worth living. Her lips brushing over his own were met with a gentle touch, hands sliding along her hips.
When she moved he knew he would be lost, in this moment as much as he had a rush of the pleasure they had shared in the past, there was still a hint of clarity to his mind that had been utterly destroyed in their combined desires. It felt like the sweetest agony, being still when all he wanted was that joining, that building desire, the release that wracked their bodies with shudders of ecstasy. His name on her lips broke the trance that had held him, and when he responded his voice again was rough with need.
"Persephone.."
It was impossible to resist, any longer, and he claimed her mouth with his own with a desperate groan, one hand tangling in her hair to hold her close as the other gripped at her hip. His mind was racing and yet focused, and he shifted himself beneath her, holding her up with one arm so there was room for him to withdraw and press forward again. Brow furrowed as his expression took on a life of its own, Iason tried to measure his breath and keep his motions slow to start, bringing their hips flush once more before guiding them apart.
It was as if the world had stood still in that moment. As she had come down, her bottom supported on his thighs, she had felt Iason’s presence all the way to her belly. She felt the pressure, the delicious feeling of being filled, despite never having realised that she was empty. She was content to remain there, frozen in time, and permit the blooming sensations of her inner muscles to relax and turn to open acceptance and familiarity of the way they had come together.
Iason had groaned softly as she had descended, but she had heard his breath, could feel the pounding of his heart through where his neck met collarbone. He wasn’t in pain... he was relishing the sensuality of it. The passion and desire. The feel of her inner muscles pressing in upon him and claiming him for her own...
When her name left his lips there was a fleeting moment of realism. Until now, there had been their breath, their movement, the shifting bed covers... no sound that reminded her of who they were, where they now lay and what was happening beyond these four ways. With the simple utterance of her name, that reality stole away the fog of desire for a moment, reminding her of her identity and all that came with that name.
And then he moved.
Shifting from her, his hand supporting her weight and encouraging her body upwards, Persephone’s mind was filled with sea smoke once more. Desire took hold again. But the moment of reality made the sexual fantasy more potent, edged with a sharp defiance that would not be ignored. Her attention diverted back to the full striking sensation deep within her. She felt certain that she could feel the shift of Iason’s member, the slip of his shaft as he drew himself free. The head of his manhood remained a hard presence between her legs, not breaking truly free of her hot grasp. Instead, he allowed it to rest there as the pressure in his hands changed direction and he moved to pull her hips downwards. An instinctive understanding took hold of Persephone as she brought herself back down, folding her legs and thrusting down harder upon Iason’s flesh.
The movement had been bold, shocking Persephone with a heightened sharpness within that had her gasping on a sound that was almost a grunt! A soft mew of recovery followed and as Iason claimed her mouth with a ravenous desire, she could only return such a kiss.
Suddenly, everything had become desperate.
They had all the time in the world that morning and in their lives to come. There was no rush to see their coupling end. Nor was there any benefit to seeing it come to its conclusion sooner. Yet, Persephone’s hips felt the demand from her core, the needy desire from within that had her moving with Iason’s guidance once more. And, as she thrusted downwards in a manner that had a sharp, almost cold shiver begin at the very furthest reach of her womanhood, she could not get enough of Iason’s taste. Her eyes widened, her kiss paused so that she could breathe and Persephone wondered if this was all her future husband desired... to pleasure her and see her learn her body. Did it please him to see it? Did he wish for more from her? Was she supposed to be doing something besides simply holding on as he orchestrated this dance?
Persephone hadn’t the time to ponder such a question or cave to self-doubt. The next thrust had that cool flicker occur again and her inner muscles tensed, as if they were bracing for the impact of Iason’s claiming body and yet openly accepted him when she drew down onto his manhood.
Such a tension and tightness did not go away. It began only to wind tighter...
“Iason...” Her voice was entirely foreign to her. Low with desire, full bodied and drawn from deep within, and yet rasping with a lack of breath. “I think... Ah... Mm... I think I...”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was as if the world had stood still in that moment. As she had come down, her bottom supported on his thighs, she had felt Iason’s presence all the way to her belly. She felt the pressure, the delicious feeling of being filled, despite never having realised that she was empty. She was content to remain there, frozen in time, and permit the blooming sensations of her inner muscles to relax and turn to open acceptance and familiarity of the way they had come together.
Iason had groaned softly as she had descended, but she had heard his breath, could feel the pounding of his heart through where his neck met collarbone. He wasn’t in pain... he was relishing the sensuality of it. The passion and desire. The feel of her inner muscles pressing in upon him and claiming him for her own...
When her name left his lips there was a fleeting moment of realism. Until now, there had been their breath, their movement, the shifting bed covers... no sound that reminded her of who they were, where they now lay and what was happening beyond these four ways. With the simple utterance of her name, that reality stole away the fog of desire for a moment, reminding her of her identity and all that came with that name.
And then he moved.
Shifting from her, his hand supporting her weight and encouraging her body upwards, Persephone’s mind was filled with sea smoke once more. Desire took hold again. But the moment of reality made the sexual fantasy more potent, edged with a sharp defiance that would not be ignored. Her attention diverted back to the full striking sensation deep within her. She felt certain that she could feel the shift of Iason’s member, the slip of his shaft as he drew himself free. The head of his manhood remained a hard presence between her legs, not breaking truly free of her hot grasp. Instead, he allowed it to rest there as the pressure in his hands changed direction and he moved to pull her hips downwards. An instinctive understanding took hold of Persephone as she brought herself back down, folding her legs and thrusting down harder upon Iason’s flesh.
The movement had been bold, shocking Persephone with a heightened sharpness within that had her gasping on a sound that was almost a grunt! A soft mew of recovery followed and as Iason claimed her mouth with a ravenous desire, she could only return such a kiss.
Suddenly, everything had become desperate.
They had all the time in the world that morning and in their lives to come. There was no rush to see their coupling end. Nor was there any benefit to seeing it come to its conclusion sooner. Yet, Persephone’s hips felt the demand from her core, the needy desire from within that had her moving with Iason’s guidance once more. And, as she thrusted downwards in a manner that had a sharp, almost cold shiver begin at the very furthest reach of her womanhood, she could not get enough of Iason’s taste. Her eyes widened, her kiss paused so that she could breathe and Persephone wondered if this was all her future husband desired... to pleasure her and see her learn her body. Did it please him to see it? Did he wish for more from her? Was she supposed to be doing something besides simply holding on as he orchestrated this dance?
Persephone hadn’t the time to ponder such a question or cave to self-doubt. The next thrust had that cool flicker occur again and her inner muscles tensed, as if they were bracing for the impact of Iason’s claiming body and yet openly accepted him when she drew down onto his manhood.
Such a tension and tightness did not go away. It began only to wind tighter...
“Iason...” Her voice was entirely foreign to her. Low with desire, full bodied and drawn from deep within, and yet rasping with a lack of breath. “I think... Ah... Mm... I think I...”
It was as if the world had stood still in that moment. As she had come down, her bottom supported on his thighs, she had felt Iason’s presence all the way to her belly. She felt the pressure, the delicious feeling of being filled, despite never having realised that she was empty. She was content to remain there, frozen in time, and permit the blooming sensations of her inner muscles to relax and turn to open acceptance and familiarity of the way they had come together.
Iason had groaned softly as she had descended, but she had heard his breath, could feel the pounding of his heart through where his neck met collarbone. He wasn’t in pain... he was relishing the sensuality of it. The passion and desire. The feel of her inner muscles pressing in upon him and claiming him for her own...
When her name left his lips there was a fleeting moment of realism. Until now, there had been their breath, their movement, the shifting bed covers... no sound that reminded her of who they were, where they now lay and what was happening beyond these four ways. With the simple utterance of her name, that reality stole away the fog of desire for a moment, reminding her of her identity and all that came with that name.
And then he moved.
Shifting from her, his hand supporting her weight and encouraging her body upwards, Persephone’s mind was filled with sea smoke once more. Desire took hold again. But the moment of reality made the sexual fantasy more potent, edged with a sharp defiance that would not be ignored. Her attention diverted back to the full striking sensation deep within her. She felt certain that she could feel the shift of Iason’s member, the slip of his shaft as he drew himself free. The head of his manhood remained a hard presence between her legs, not breaking truly free of her hot grasp. Instead, he allowed it to rest there as the pressure in his hands changed direction and he moved to pull her hips downwards. An instinctive understanding took hold of Persephone as she brought herself back down, folding her legs and thrusting down harder upon Iason’s flesh.
The movement had been bold, shocking Persephone with a heightened sharpness within that had her gasping on a sound that was almost a grunt! A soft mew of recovery followed and as Iason claimed her mouth with a ravenous desire, she could only return such a kiss.
Suddenly, everything had become desperate.
They had all the time in the world that morning and in their lives to come. There was no rush to see their coupling end. Nor was there any benefit to seeing it come to its conclusion sooner. Yet, Persephone’s hips felt the demand from her core, the needy desire from within that had her moving with Iason’s guidance once more. And, as she thrusted downwards in a manner that had a sharp, almost cold shiver begin at the very furthest reach of her womanhood, she could not get enough of Iason’s taste. Her eyes widened, her kiss paused so that she could breathe and Persephone wondered if this was all her future husband desired... to pleasure her and see her learn her body. Did it please him to see it? Did he wish for more from her? Was she supposed to be doing something besides simply holding on as he orchestrated this dance?
Persephone hadn’t the time to ponder such a question or cave to self-doubt. The next thrust had that cool flicker occur again and her inner muscles tensed, as if they were bracing for the impact of Iason’s claiming body and yet openly accepted him when she drew down onto his manhood.
Such a tension and tightness did not go away. It began only to wind tighter...
“Iason...” Her voice was entirely foreign to her. Low with desire, full bodied and drawn from deep within, and yet rasping with a lack of breath. “I think... Ah... Mm... I think I...”
Every breath felt difficult in the best way, his focus entirely on the join of their bodies and the way it felt. As she lifted from him the slide was everything he wanted, yet somehow wrong because instinct insisted he be within her, joined with her in the most fundamental way possible. Eager to draw her back to him, he was thrilled when she made the move though once again his breath was stolen, a cry of pleasure and surprise all but ripped from his throat that mingled with her own. He wanted everything at once, to keep her close and to keep them both moving, every sound that fell from their lips and the silence that was just their bodies and their breath.
With a hunger and fire he hadn't known himself capable of until her, Iason dove into the kiss that was a tangle of tongues, nipping of teeth, and tugging of hair, pulling her as close to him as possible. As if he could simply absorb her and keep her close and safe and in his arms always where they belonged. As her hips kept rocking against him, his hands now barely guiding her even as they gripped tight, he hated to pause for breath, opening pale eyes darkened with an animal lust meeting her own.
She was beautiful, perfect, and everything he hadn't known he desired. Adoration was clear enough in his gaze, he couldn't hide anything from her normally but now his devotion was a page to be read from, his lips barely managing to whisper out his love between every hiss and breath of ecstasy. Releasing his hands from the place they'd frozen, his arms instead wound about her, one hand coming up to cradle her cheek tenderly as the other settled just above her hips to give support to their moves. His own body was rocking in time with hers and if he'd had the mental space for it he might have been amazed that he was strong enough to keep them upright without falling over.
A coiling sensation deep inside was building, and he had to bury his face in her skin for a moment, breathing her in as if that would somehow extend the length of time this would last. For as soon as they had reached the peak of their pleasure he feared she would want to roll away from him and go back to thoughts of war and thrones they did not want. The lord was determined to exhaust them both enough to keep her in his arms even after this precious time had ended. Arching back to look up at her again, he could feel her nails biting against his skin and welcomed it, the edge of pain just enough to keep him steadier.
Her words were similar to their time in the field, when she had been spread to him much like this, exposed and wanting. There was still a hint of fear, one he wanted to remove entirely, but wasn't yet sure how to. Instead he kept hold of her, as if to reassure her that this was good, it was right, and a voice unlike his own issued from him. It was something to do with their joint pleasure that must have made the change, a more true primal self within speaking on behalf of the noble they had to be in every day.
"Yes..oh gods.." Everything felt strained and he felt like his breaths were coming in gasps now, desperate motions mingled with an equal desperation to last for her.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Every breath felt difficult in the best way, his focus entirely on the join of their bodies and the way it felt. As she lifted from him the slide was everything he wanted, yet somehow wrong because instinct insisted he be within her, joined with her in the most fundamental way possible. Eager to draw her back to him, he was thrilled when she made the move though once again his breath was stolen, a cry of pleasure and surprise all but ripped from his throat that mingled with her own. He wanted everything at once, to keep her close and to keep them both moving, every sound that fell from their lips and the silence that was just their bodies and their breath.
With a hunger and fire he hadn't known himself capable of until her, Iason dove into the kiss that was a tangle of tongues, nipping of teeth, and tugging of hair, pulling her as close to him as possible. As if he could simply absorb her and keep her close and safe and in his arms always where they belonged. As her hips kept rocking against him, his hands now barely guiding her even as they gripped tight, he hated to pause for breath, opening pale eyes darkened with an animal lust meeting her own.
She was beautiful, perfect, and everything he hadn't known he desired. Adoration was clear enough in his gaze, he couldn't hide anything from her normally but now his devotion was a page to be read from, his lips barely managing to whisper out his love between every hiss and breath of ecstasy. Releasing his hands from the place they'd frozen, his arms instead wound about her, one hand coming up to cradle her cheek tenderly as the other settled just above her hips to give support to their moves. His own body was rocking in time with hers and if he'd had the mental space for it he might have been amazed that he was strong enough to keep them upright without falling over.
A coiling sensation deep inside was building, and he had to bury his face in her skin for a moment, breathing her in as if that would somehow extend the length of time this would last. For as soon as they had reached the peak of their pleasure he feared she would want to roll away from him and go back to thoughts of war and thrones they did not want. The lord was determined to exhaust them both enough to keep her in his arms even after this precious time had ended. Arching back to look up at her again, he could feel her nails biting against his skin and welcomed it, the edge of pain just enough to keep him steadier.
Her words were similar to their time in the field, when she had been spread to him much like this, exposed and wanting. There was still a hint of fear, one he wanted to remove entirely, but wasn't yet sure how to. Instead he kept hold of her, as if to reassure her that this was good, it was right, and a voice unlike his own issued from him. It was something to do with their joint pleasure that must have made the change, a more true primal self within speaking on behalf of the noble they had to be in every day.
"Yes..oh gods.." Everything felt strained and he felt like his breaths were coming in gasps now, desperate motions mingled with an equal desperation to last for her.
Every breath felt difficult in the best way, his focus entirely on the join of their bodies and the way it felt. As she lifted from him the slide was everything he wanted, yet somehow wrong because instinct insisted he be within her, joined with her in the most fundamental way possible. Eager to draw her back to him, he was thrilled when she made the move though once again his breath was stolen, a cry of pleasure and surprise all but ripped from his throat that mingled with her own. He wanted everything at once, to keep her close and to keep them both moving, every sound that fell from their lips and the silence that was just their bodies and their breath.
With a hunger and fire he hadn't known himself capable of until her, Iason dove into the kiss that was a tangle of tongues, nipping of teeth, and tugging of hair, pulling her as close to him as possible. As if he could simply absorb her and keep her close and safe and in his arms always where they belonged. As her hips kept rocking against him, his hands now barely guiding her even as they gripped tight, he hated to pause for breath, opening pale eyes darkened with an animal lust meeting her own.
She was beautiful, perfect, and everything he hadn't known he desired. Adoration was clear enough in his gaze, he couldn't hide anything from her normally but now his devotion was a page to be read from, his lips barely managing to whisper out his love between every hiss and breath of ecstasy. Releasing his hands from the place they'd frozen, his arms instead wound about her, one hand coming up to cradle her cheek tenderly as the other settled just above her hips to give support to their moves. His own body was rocking in time with hers and if he'd had the mental space for it he might have been amazed that he was strong enough to keep them upright without falling over.
A coiling sensation deep inside was building, and he had to bury his face in her skin for a moment, breathing her in as if that would somehow extend the length of time this would last. For as soon as they had reached the peak of their pleasure he feared she would want to roll away from him and go back to thoughts of war and thrones they did not want. The lord was determined to exhaust them both enough to keep her in his arms even after this precious time had ended. Arching back to look up at her again, he could feel her nails biting against his skin and welcomed it, the edge of pain just enough to keep him steadier.
Her words were similar to their time in the field, when she had been spread to him much like this, exposed and wanting. There was still a hint of fear, one he wanted to remove entirely, but wasn't yet sure how to. Instead he kept hold of her, as if to reassure her that this was good, it was right, and a voice unlike his own issued from him. It was something to do with their joint pleasure that must have made the change, a more true primal self within speaking on behalf of the noble they had to be in every day.
"Yes..oh gods.." Everything felt strained and he felt like his breaths were coming in gasps now, desperate motions mingled with an equal desperation to last for her.
It was as if her body had taken on some kind of immortal state. A state in which she craved air but didn't need to breathe. Her lips did not seem willing to release Iason's, as if they were addicted to his touch, attempting to meld into his being, her tongue tangled with his for the same reason. Her hands fell upon his body and skin with a strength she did not know her slight frame to possess, her nails finding purchase on the ridges of his shoulder blades and the muscles of his back. Her lungs burnt with a need to seek air and her chest heaved with whatever it could gasp between their adorations.
Iason seemed to be the same. For every touch he made to her was one of a strong grip and desperate determination. His fingers found her hair and the locks were tugged upon in a way that was possessive and sent tingles of pain over her scalp and the fingers of his other hand dug into her skin. Never enough to bruise but enough to spark little pressure points on the brink of hurt.
When his teeth nipped upon her full, lower lip, she made a broken moan that exhaled upon a gasp. She felt the core of her womanhood curling into an impossibly tight coil. It was the same sensation that had plagued her in the fields of Meganea, when Iason has pleasured her with his touch. They had been in a similar position, his hand between her legs, the tension building within. Yet... this was different. With his flesh inside hers, Persephone felt full. Felt the mass of his presence, felt the way her muscles latched around him, drawing hard upon his shaft and wanting to release a tension that had no space to release.
A moment of panic flared as she wondered what would happen if such a moment happened with Iason inside of her. For it had not happened the last time they were together. This had never occurred with their bodies merged in such a way. But the panic was smothered by an overwhelming need that had her mind focusing on one thing and one thing only.
As she gasped, desperate for air, Persephone's body took on a will of its own and started to thrust down upon Iason harder, spearing herself upon his manhood so that she felt him all the way to the centre of her being. Her eyes widened her mouth went slack, her muscles tensed in a frozen paralysis of pleasure that would only allow her legs to move. Again, she pushed down. Hard. And on the third, harder joining of their bodies, Persephone felt something break within her.
In a flash of spasm and shocks through her body, Persephone felt the tension release and whip through her. Her inner muscles shuddered and moved in strong rippling currents against Iason's flesh, drawing him deeper still, where she could take from him that which her body needed.
As her body became not her own and sparks of black and white flickered over her vision, Persephone wasn't sure of the noise she made but she was beyond feeling self-conscious. Instead, she was too far gone in what it felt like to reach the peak of pleasure with her betrothed buried between her thighs.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was as if her body had taken on some kind of immortal state. A state in which she craved air but didn't need to breathe. Her lips did not seem willing to release Iason's, as if they were addicted to his touch, attempting to meld into his being, her tongue tangled with his for the same reason. Her hands fell upon his body and skin with a strength she did not know her slight frame to possess, her nails finding purchase on the ridges of his shoulder blades and the muscles of his back. Her lungs burnt with a need to seek air and her chest heaved with whatever it could gasp between their adorations.
Iason seemed to be the same. For every touch he made to her was one of a strong grip and desperate determination. His fingers found her hair and the locks were tugged upon in a way that was possessive and sent tingles of pain over her scalp and the fingers of his other hand dug into her skin. Never enough to bruise but enough to spark little pressure points on the brink of hurt.
When his teeth nipped upon her full, lower lip, she made a broken moan that exhaled upon a gasp. She felt the core of her womanhood curling into an impossibly tight coil. It was the same sensation that had plagued her in the fields of Meganea, when Iason has pleasured her with his touch. They had been in a similar position, his hand between her legs, the tension building within. Yet... this was different. With his flesh inside hers, Persephone felt full. Felt the mass of his presence, felt the way her muscles latched around him, drawing hard upon his shaft and wanting to release a tension that had no space to release.
A moment of panic flared as she wondered what would happen if such a moment happened with Iason inside of her. For it had not happened the last time they were together. This had never occurred with their bodies merged in such a way. But the panic was smothered by an overwhelming need that had her mind focusing on one thing and one thing only.
As she gasped, desperate for air, Persephone's body took on a will of its own and started to thrust down upon Iason harder, spearing herself upon his manhood so that she felt him all the way to the centre of her being. Her eyes widened her mouth went slack, her muscles tensed in a frozen paralysis of pleasure that would only allow her legs to move. Again, she pushed down. Hard. And on the third, harder joining of their bodies, Persephone felt something break within her.
In a flash of spasm and shocks through her body, Persephone felt the tension release and whip through her. Her inner muscles shuddered and moved in strong rippling currents against Iason's flesh, drawing him deeper still, where she could take from him that which her body needed.
As her body became not her own and sparks of black and white flickered over her vision, Persephone wasn't sure of the noise she made but she was beyond feeling self-conscious. Instead, she was too far gone in what it felt like to reach the peak of pleasure with her betrothed buried between her thighs.
It was as if her body had taken on some kind of immortal state. A state in which she craved air but didn't need to breathe. Her lips did not seem willing to release Iason's, as if they were addicted to his touch, attempting to meld into his being, her tongue tangled with his for the same reason. Her hands fell upon his body and skin with a strength she did not know her slight frame to possess, her nails finding purchase on the ridges of his shoulder blades and the muscles of his back. Her lungs burnt with a need to seek air and her chest heaved with whatever it could gasp between their adorations.
Iason seemed to be the same. For every touch he made to her was one of a strong grip and desperate determination. His fingers found her hair and the locks were tugged upon in a way that was possessive and sent tingles of pain over her scalp and the fingers of his other hand dug into her skin. Never enough to bruise but enough to spark little pressure points on the brink of hurt.
When his teeth nipped upon her full, lower lip, she made a broken moan that exhaled upon a gasp. She felt the core of her womanhood curling into an impossibly tight coil. It was the same sensation that had plagued her in the fields of Meganea, when Iason has pleasured her with his touch. They had been in a similar position, his hand between her legs, the tension building within. Yet... this was different. With his flesh inside hers, Persephone felt full. Felt the mass of his presence, felt the way her muscles latched around him, drawing hard upon his shaft and wanting to release a tension that had no space to release.
A moment of panic flared as she wondered what would happen if such a moment happened with Iason inside of her. For it had not happened the last time they were together. This had never occurred with their bodies merged in such a way. But the panic was smothered by an overwhelming need that had her mind focusing on one thing and one thing only.
As she gasped, desperate for air, Persephone's body took on a will of its own and started to thrust down upon Iason harder, spearing herself upon his manhood so that she felt him all the way to the centre of her being. Her eyes widened her mouth went slack, her muscles tensed in a frozen paralysis of pleasure that would only allow her legs to move. Again, she pushed down. Hard. And on the third, harder joining of their bodies, Persephone felt something break within her.
In a flash of spasm and shocks through her body, Persephone felt the tension release and whip through her. Her inner muscles shuddered and moved in strong rippling currents against Iason's flesh, drawing him deeper still, where she could take from him that which her body needed.
As her body became not her own and sparks of black and white flickered over her vision, Persephone wasn't sure of the noise she made but she was beyond feeling self-conscious. Instead, she was too far gone in what it felt like to reach the peak of pleasure with her betrothed buried between her thighs.
This time was different, perhaps from the position they were in, or something even more native to being. There was a tightness around him, as if the coil he felt within himself was being echoed around him in her, tension and lust building without restraint. He forced his eyes open to look at her, lips parted as he gave a harsh cry of pleasure, breath difficult to suck into his lungs yet somehow entirely unnecessary. She was like Aphrodite herself above him, her body claiming his as much as he claimed her own, a mutual trust and need that had to be satisfied.
Her skin was gleaming from the beads of sweat between them, dark hair thick and tangled around his fingers, the way her body arched and thrust against him gave her an even more ethereal presence. He was lost to her entirely, anything she wished, anything she desired, whatever it was she asked of him now or forever he would give to her without question. If she wanted to fight a war as much as it went against everything, he would do anything for this moment to never end. His desire felt as if it was pulsing within, as if his heartbeat had traveled, the way she rode him taming what wildness remained.
When she reached her peak he gave another cry, shocked and awed by the way her muscles clutched and pulled at him, his own pleasure drawn closer to that peak of ecstasy. As she trembled against him, seemingly now content to be still where his own body cried out for more, Iason kept a tight hold on her as he shifted their position, laying her back in reverence on the bed and joining his body with hers once again. The thrusts were his own now, taking a pace that was perhaps too much after her peak of desire, and he buried his face against the join of her neck and shoulder as he took now what he needed.
The tightness wound in his chest with each movement until that final peak, his release pulsing through them as he gave a harsh groan that was muffled against her soft skin. Shuddering to a halt after a few additional slower thrusts, he had no wish to move, preferring instead to stay sheathed within her as long as they could, to simply hold her there while the fog of pleasure cleared from his mind. As his breath caught up to him his lips pressed against her throat, her body cradled beneath his while they came to their senses.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This time was different, perhaps from the position they were in, or something even more native to being. There was a tightness around him, as if the coil he felt within himself was being echoed around him in her, tension and lust building without restraint. He forced his eyes open to look at her, lips parted as he gave a harsh cry of pleasure, breath difficult to suck into his lungs yet somehow entirely unnecessary. She was like Aphrodite herself above him, her body claiming his as much as he claimed her own, a mutual trust and need that had to be satisfied.
Her skin was gleaming from the beads of sweat between them, dark hair thick and tangled around his fingers, the way her body arched and thrust against him gave her an even more ethereal presence. He was lost to her entirely, anything she wished, anything she desired, whatever it was she asked of him now or forever he would give to her without question. If she wanted to fight a war as much as it went against everything, he would do anything for this moment to never end. His desire felt as if it was pulsing within, as if his heartbeat had traveled, the way she rode him taming what wildness remained.
When she reached her peak he gave another cry, shocked and awed by the way her muscles clutched and pulled at him, his own pleasure drawn closer to that peak of ecstasy. As she trembled against him, seemingly now content to be still where his own body cried out for more, Iason kept a tight hold on her as he shifted their position, laying her back in reverence on the bed and joining his body with hers once again. The thrusts were his own now, taking a pace that was perhaps too much after her peak of desire, and he buried his face against the join of her neck and shoulder as he took now what he needed.
The tightness wound in his chest with each movement until that final peak, his release pulsing through them as he gave a harsh groan that was muffled against her soft skin. Shuddering to a halt after a few additional slower thrusts, he had no wish to move, preferring instead to stay sheathed within her as long as they could, to simply hold her there while the fog of pleasure cleared from his mind. As his breath caught up to him his lips pressed against her throat, her body cradled beneath his while they came to their senses.
This time was different, perhaps from the position they were in, or something even more native to being. There was a tightness around him, as if the coil he felt within himself was being echoed around him in her, tension and lust building without restraint. He forced his eyes open to look at her, lips parted as he gave a harsh cry of pleasure, breath difficult to suck into his lungs yet somehow entirely unnecessary. She was like Aphrodite herself above him, her body claiming his as much as he claimed her own, a mutual trust and need that had to be satisfied.
Her skin was gleaming from the beads of sweat between them, dark hair thick and tangled around his fingers, the way her body arched and thrust against him gave her an even more ethereal presence. He was lost to her entirely, anything she wished, anything she desired, whatever it was she asked of him now or forever he would give to her without question. If she wanted to fight a war as much as it went against everything, he would do anything for this moment to never end. His desire felt as if it was pulsing within, as if his heartbeat had traveled, the way she rode him taming what wildness remained.
When she reached her peak he gave another cry, shocked and awed by the way her muscles clutched and pulled at him, his own pleasure drawn closer to that peak of ecstasy. As she trembled against him, seemingly now content to be still where his own body cried out for more, Iason kept a tight hold on her as he shifted their position, laying her back in reverence on the bed and joining his body with hers once again. The thrusts were his own now, taking a pace that was perhaps too much after her peak of desire, and he buried his face against the join of her neck and shoulder as he took now what he needed.
The tightness wound in his chest with each movement until that final peak, his release pulsing through them as he gave a harsh groan that was muffled against her soft skin. Shuddering to a halt after a few additional slower thrusts, he had no wish to move, preferring instead to stay sheathed within her as long as they could, to simply hold her there while the fog of pleasure cleared from his mind. As his breath caught up to him his lips pressed against her throat, her body cradled beneath his while they came to their senses.
It took a moment or two before Persephone's vision returned to normal, the black and white flashed, twisting from her view and setting her gaze back upon the shadows of the chamber in its early morning dimness. She blinked several times, the darkness difficult to adjust to as if she had just stepped in from a midday sun and could no visualise the finer details of the room.
Before she could truly adjust, however, gain her breath or realise that her thighs now ached with the pressure of holding her weight, her world was spun and tumbled. In a moment she was upon her back, the loss of Iason's presence from within her a retraction of delicious pressure that she wished to protest. And yet, a heartbeat later it had returned. Iason slipped back within her body with simple ease that had trembling shivers stroking her core. So wet, so slippery and so easy to join once more, filling her in a way that seemed too much and too harsh now. Yet it was not unpleasant.
Her knees naturally rising, Persephone's hips became a cradle for her lover, his weight heavy upon her little frame - for he was a large man of power and strength. Her back arched and her body sought a closeness that would ease their connection, but Iason seemed ignorant of any moves that she made.
Lost in his own enthrals, his head back, his teeth bared and his arms locked to support his weight against the bedding, Persephone had the opportunity simply to watch the man and the pleasure he could derive from their coupling.
Her body shifting a little, back and forth with his thrusts in a way that seemed so naturally instinctive that she gave it no thought, Persephone watched the curious play of pleasure and pain upon Iason's features as he thrust hard and deep. Each time he reached her end, she felt a hurtful and sharp little spasm and her lips broke open to gasp, mew or inhale on a slight hiss. A few moments ago, every stroke of his body had set her trembling with ecstasy. Now it was a little too much. Pleasurable but uncomfortable. Her inner flesh too sensitive to react with anything besides shock at his invasion of her body.
Her lips parting and her lungs heavy with gasps, Persephone reached up to touch Iason's face, to cradle his cheek and offer him a slumberous look that held all the desire he had given her, along with the permission to do what he desired and to take what he needed.
It lasted only a few thrusts more before Iason was taken by the strength of his own passions, his back rearing and his eyes squeezing shut - as if the experience was too much for him to witness in himself.
Yet, Persephone saw it. Saw how his features changed, his body tightened... Even in the darkness, the ridges of his abdomen had thrown shadows in their tightness. He shook above her and then seemed to collapse upon her, finding a natural embrace in her thighs and arms that reached up to wrap around his shoulders.
As Iason found comfort in the curve of her neck and shoulder, Persephone's found hers resting her cheek against the side of his head and looking down at the shade and contours of his back. She could see her own knees lifting on either side of his hips and the little valley of his spine. She could see the mouldings of his muscles and the strength of his shoulders. Her hands trailed over such lines in a touch that was comforting. For it seemed that comfort was naturally what a man should need after such an explosive experience.
The world was calm and quiet for a few moments as the two of them simply breathed, allowing their heartrates to calm and the scent of their sex to cocoon them in a feel of intimacy... It was Persephone who broke the quiet, after several long minutes.
"Iason..." She had been trying to say something during their mating, had sought the right words but had lost them in the flurry of pleasure and rising ecstasy. She repeated them now... stilted and hesitating only through the sleepiness that came with being so thoroughly loved to exhaustion... "I think I..." Her hands smoothed over his skin before one of them came up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her voice was soft and quiet... private. For only the two of them. "I think I love you."
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It took a moment or two before Persephone's vision returned to normal, the black and white flashed, twisting from her view and setting her gaze back upon the shadows of the chamber in its early morning dimness. She blinked several times, the darkness difficult to adjust to as if she had just stepped in from a midday sun and could no visualise the finer details of the room.
Before she could truly adjust, however, gain her breath or realise that her thighs now ached with the pressure of holding her weight, her world was spun and tumbled. In a moment she was upon her back, the loss of Iason's presence from within her a retraction of delicious pressure that she wished to protest. And yet, a heartbeat later it had returned. Iason slipped back within her body with simple ease that had trembling shivers stroking her core. So wet, so slippery and so easy to join once more, filling her in a way that seemed too much and too harsh now. Yet it was not unpleasant.
Her knees naturally rising, Persephone's hips became a cradle for her lover, his weight heavy upon her little frame - for he was a large man of power and strength. Her back arched and her body sought a closeness that would ease their connection, but Iason seemed ignorant of any moves that she made.
Lost in his own enthrals, his head back, his teeth bared and his arms locked to support his weight against the bedding, Persephone had the opportunity simply to watch the man and the pleasure he could derive from their coupling.
Her body shifting a little, back and forth with his thrusts in a way that seemed so naturally instinctive that she gave it no thought, Persephone watched the curious play of pleasure and pain upon Iason's features as he thrust hard and deep. Each time he reached her end, she felt a hurtful and sharp little spasm and her lips broke open to gasp, mew or inhale on a slight hiss. A few moments ago, every stroke of his body had set her trembling with ecstasy. Now it was a little too much. Pleasurable but uncomfortable. Her inner flesh too sensitive to react with anything besides shock at his invasion of her body.
Her lips parting and her lungs heavy with gasps, Persephone reached up to touch Iason's face, to cradle his cheek and offer him a slumberous look that held all the desire he had given her, along with the permission to do what he desired and to take what he needed.
It lasted only a few thrusts more before Iason was taken by the strength of his own passions, his back rearing and his eyes squeezing shut - as if the experience was too much for him to witness in himself.
Yet, Persephone saw it. Saw how his features changed, his body tightened... Even in the darkness, the ridges of his abdomen had thrown shadows in their tightness. He shook above her and then seemed to collapse upon her, finding a natural embrace in her thighs and arms that reached up to wrap around his shoulders.
As Iason found comfort in the curve of her neck and shoulder, Persephone's found hers resting her cheek against the side of his head and looking down at the shade and contours of his back. She could see her own knees lifting on either side of his hips and the little valley of his spine. She could see the mouldings of his muscles and the strength of his shoulders. Her hands trailed over such lines in a touch that was comforting. For it seemed that comfort was naturally what a man should need after such an explosive experience.
The world was calm and quiet for a few moments as the two of them simply breathed, allowing their heartrates to calm and the scent of their sex to cocoon them in a feel of intimacy... It was Persephone who broke the quiet, after several long minutes.
"Iason..." She had been trying to say something during their mating, had sought the right words but had lost them in the flurry of pleasure and rising ecstasy. She repeated them now... stilted and hesitating only through the sleepiness that came with being so thoroughly loved to exhaustion... "I think I..." Her hands smoothed over his skin before one of them came up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her voice was soft and quiet... private. For only the two of them. "I think I love you."
It took a moment or two before Persephone's vision returned to normal, the black and white flashed, twisting from her view and setting her gaze back upon the shadows of the chamber in its early morning dimness. She blinked several times, the darkness difficult to adjust to as if she had just stepped in from a midday sun and could no visualise the finer details of the room.
Before she could truly adjust, however, gain her breath or realise that her thighs now ached with the pressure of holding her weight, her world was spun and tumbled. In a moment she was upon her back, the loss of Iason's presence from within her a retraction of delicious pressure that she wished to protest. And yet, a heartbeat later it had returned. Iason slipped back within her body with simple ease that had trembling shivers stroking her core. So wet, so slippery and so easy to join once more, filling her in a way that seemed too much and too harsh now. Yet it was not unpleasant.
Her knees naturally rising, Persephone's hips became a cradle for her lover, his weight heavy upon her little frame - for he was a large man of power and strength. Her back arched and her body sought a closeness that would ease their connection, but Iason seemed ignorant of any moves that she made.
Lost in his own enthrals, his head back, his teeth bared and his arms locked to support his weight against the bedding, Persephone had the opportunity simply to watch the man and the pleasure he could derive from their coupling.
Her body shifting a little, back and forth with his thrusts in a way that seemed so naturally instinctive that she gave it no thought, Persephone watched the curious play of pleasure and pain upon Iason's features as he thrust hard and deep. Each time he reached her end, she felt a hurtful and sharp little spasm and her lips broke open to gasp, mew or inhale on a slight hiss. A few moments ago, every stroke of his body had set her trembling with ecstasy. Now it was a little too much. Pleasurable but uncomfortable. Her inner flesh too sensitive to react with anything besides shock at his invasion of her body.
Her lips parting and her lungs heavy with gasps, Persephone reached up to touch Iason's face, to cradle his cheek and offer him a slumberous look that held all the desire he had given her, along with the permission to do what he desired and to take what he needed.
It lasted only a few thrusts more before Iason was taken by the strength of his own passions, his back rearing and his eyes squeezing shut - as if the experience was too much for him to witness in himself.
Yet, Persephone saw it. Saw how his features changed, his body tightened... Even in the darkness, the ridges of his abdomen had thrown shadows in their tightness. He shook above her and then seemed to collapse upon her, finding a natural embrace in her thighs and arms that reached up to wrap around his shoulders.
As Iason found comfort in the curve of her neck and shoulder, Persephone's found hers resting her cheek against the side of his head and looking down at the shade and contours of his back. She could see her own knees lifting on either side of his hips and the little valley of his spine. She could see the mouldings of his muscles and the strength of his shoulders. Her hands trailed over such lines in a touch that was comforting. For it seemed that comfort was naturally what a man should need after such an explosive experience.
The world was calm and quiet for a few moments as the two of them simply breathed, allowing their heartrates to calm and the scent of their sex to cocoon them in a feel of intimacy... It was Persephone who broke the quiet, after several long minutes.
"Iason..." She had been trying to say something during their mating, had sought the right words but had lost them in the flurry of pleasure and rising ecstasy. She repeated them now... stilted and hesitating only through the sleepiness that came with being so thoroughly loved to exhaustion... "I think I..." Her hands smoothed over his skin before one of them came up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her voice was soft and quiet... private. For only the two of them. "I think I love you."
It was something that had he been in a more cognisant mindset he might have chastised himself for, waiting to explore the pleasures of the body that could be shared. He had heard the tales from his cousins, seen soldiers and whores and lords and maids in their flirtations, but nothing could have prepared him for this, none of the tales could have possibly compared to how it felt. Joined with the woman he would spend the rest of his life following and adoring, his lady and wife in all but ritual, though how the gods could overlook something like this as declaration he could not understand.
Her hands on him, the way her gaze met his, their bodies entwined in such intimate fashion, this was their vow. As he caught his breath the way she curled against him was different, her embrace and caresses sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. It felt impossible to even consider moving away, though he knew that he would have to. Eventually someone would call for them and they would have to dress and go about their day, their journey would begin again and there would be nothing that could remind them of this. Only lingering glances, the slightest stolen touches, but the focus would be elsewhere, not on them as people, but their positions and their names.
Iason's lips brushed against her collarbone as he heard her speak, the tone so raw and real that he was afraid at first he had been imagining it. Her hands in his hair drew his gaze back to hers as she formed he words he had felt but not yet heard, a surprise fading into joy and warmth of love as he allowed it to sink in. In her actions, her own way, Persephone had let him know of her feelings before they left, but hearing her now say aloud, confirm to him and the gods that she loved him, was as if that was all that was needed to complete their vow.
"I know."
With a smile that showed the youth in his features, a slight tease in his eyes even as a reverent gaze was bestowed upon her, Iason found her mouth with his own, claiming her lips in a kiss that nearly stole his breath again. Shifting their bodies apart and then together once again, he cradled her still to his chest, his form a shield against her own as he held her close. As long as they could stay like this, he would fight any battle she wished, whatever order she gave him he would follow. His desires seemed somehow secondary now, as if he had realized something greater guided him.
Love was a dangerous thing, he'd always known that somewhere deep within, but now he had proof, evident by how ready he was to throw himself into the unknown, to risk everything, all for her. She held his heart and he gave it freely, each beat was for her alone.
"I love you. Forever." Brushing back strands of her dark hair his touch lingered in the soft silk, twisting it gently between his fingers as his smile widened before settling into an expression of contentment, his eyes closing as his nose nudged lightly against her own. "We will sort everything out, whatever it takes."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was something that had he been in a more cognisant mindset he might have chastised himself for, waiting to explore the pleasures of the body that could be shared. He had heard the tales from his cousins, seen soldiers and whores and lords and maids in their flirtations, but nothing could have prepared him for this, none of the tales could have possibly compared to how it felt. Joined with the woman he would spend the rest of his life following and adoring, his lady and wife in all but ritual, though how the gods could overlook something like this as declaration he could not understand.
Her hands on him, the way her gaze met his, their bodies entwined in such intimate fashion, this was their vow. As he caught his breath the way she curled against him was different, her embrace and caresses sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. It felt impossible to even consider moving away, though he knew that he would have to. Eventually someone would call for them and they would have to dress and go about their day, their journey would begin again and there would be nothing that could remind them of this. Only lingering glances, the slightest stolen touches, but the focus would be elsewhere, not on them as people, but their positions and their names.
Iason's lips brushed against her collarbone as he heard her speak, the tone so raw and real that he was afraid at first he had been imagining it. Her hands in his hair drew his gaze back to hers as she formed he words he had felt but not yet heard, a surprise fading into joy and warmth of love as he allowed it to sink in. In her actions, her own way, Persephone had let him know of her feelings before they left, but hearing her now say aloud, confirm to him and the gods that she loved him, was as if that was all that was needed to complete their vow.
"I know."
With a smile that showed the youth in his features, a slight tease in his eyes even as a reverent gaze was bestowed upon her, Iason found her mouth with his own, claiming her lips in a kiss that nearly stole his breath again. Shifting their bodies apart and then together once again, he cradled her still to his chest, his form a shield against her own as he held her close. As long as they could stay like this, he would fight any battle she wished, whatever order she gave him he would follow. His desires seemed somehow secondary now, as if he had realized something greater guided him.
Love was a dangerous thing, he'd always known that somewhere deep within, but now he had proof, evident by how ready he was to throw himself into the unknown, to risk everything, all for her. She held his heart and he gave it freely, each beat was for her alone.
"I love you. Forever." Brushing back strands of her dark hair his touch lingered in the soft silk, twisting it gently between his fingers as his smile widened before settling into an expression of contentment, his eyes closing as his nose nudged lightly against her own. "We will sort everything out, whatever it takes."
It was something that had he been in a more cognisant mindset he might have chastised himself for, waiting to explore the pleasures of the body that could be shared. He had heard the tales from his cousins, seen soldiers and whores and lords and maids in their flirtations, but nothing could have prepared him for this, none of the tales could have possibly compared to how it felt. Joined with the woman he would spend the rest of his life following and adoring, his lady and wife in all but ritual, though how the gods could overlook something like this as declaration he could not understand.
Her hands on him, the way her gaze met his, their bodies entwined in such intimate fashion, this was their vow. As he caught his breath the way she curled against him was different, her embrace and caresses sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. It felt impossible to even consider moving away, though he knew that he would have to. Eventually someone would call for them and they would have to dress and go about their day, their journey would begin again and there would be nothing that could remind them of this. Only lingering glances, the slightest stolen touches, but the focus would be elsewhere, not on them as people, but their positions and their names.
Iason's lips brushed against her collarbone as he heard her speak, the tone so raw and real that he was afraid at first he had been imagining it. Her hands in his hair drew his gaze back to hers as she formed he words he had felt but not yet heard, a surprise fading into joy and warmth of love as he allowed it to sink in. In her actions, her own way, Persephone had let him know of her feelings before they left, but hearing her now say aloud, confirm to him and the gods that she loved him, was as if that was all that was needed to complete their vow.
"I know."
With a smile that showed the youth in his features, a slight tease in his eyes even as a reverent gaze was bestowed upon her, Iason found her mouth with his own, claiming her lips in a kiss that nearly stole his breath again. Shifting their bodies apart and then together once again, he cradled her still to his chest, his form a shield against her own as he held her close. As long as they could stay like this, he would fight any battle she wished, whatever order she gave him he would follow. His desires seemed somehow secondary now, as if he had realized something greater guided him.
Love was a dangerous thing, he'd always known that somewhere deep within, but now he had proof, evident by how ready he was to throw himself into the unknown, to risk everything, all for her. She held his heart and he gave it freely, each beat was for her alone.
"I love you. Forever." Brushing back strands of her dark hair his touch lingered in the soft silk, twisting it gently between his fingers as his smile widened before settling into an expression of contentment, his eyes closing as his nose nudged lightly against her own. "We will sort everything out, whatever it takes."