'No lady should act in such a way.' - Isadora could nearly hear the voice of her deceased mother in her mind as her head anchored back against her pillow, reveling in the pleasure that her fingers orchestrated inside of her slick folds. She had been raised within the von Wyck manor to be an example of the perfect woman; modest, elegant, and well-mannered. And if her mother could see her now.. legs parted in a lewd display of her sex, her nightgown tossed aside like some careless barrier to her preserved flesh, with an entity of darkness latched to her? She'd pass away all over again after cursing her daughter for eternity.
But here, in the moment, with her dark saviour between her porcelain thighs, nothing else mattered. Every little thing that she had been ingrained with disappeared, and in its wake was a need to be desired - touched - and above all else, satisfied. And no matter the accompanying pain from the being's talons that embedded themselves into her thighs, Isadora knew that he would deliver her every dream come true. He had promised all those years ago.
Amber eyes opened, forcing her gaze to drift down once more towards the mass of darkness that had settled between her legs. Seeing him gave her hand renewed vigor, encouraging her just from his dark hue to plunge her fingers inside of her virgin hole deeper. And it seemed as though he took the sight as a proper invitation, wanting to taste the nectar that was beginning to coat her hand for himself.
As he lowered between her legs, Isadora felt her breath escape her lungs in one swift sigh, anticipation squeezing around her throat. With the sudden pressure of the entity's tongue, the woman's finger ceased to move as surprise overtook her. It was a short-lived emotion, quickly replaced with a drawing eclipse of need and desire as the cogs in her mind started to turn. He was inside her. A feeling she had longed to feel for countless, lonely nights while in that sanctum of hell. And it ignited something inside of her that she didn't know existed.
Slowly, the hand that had ceased to move withdrew, and her palm caressed against the Hallow's face, momentarily surprised by the feel of its cheek. There was no time to grasp the differences of caressing its cheek compared to another living being, however, as the muscled tongue that had penetrated her seemed to grow. Her dampened hand came up to clench against the materialized dark strands of hair within its shadow, and her back arched almost painfully off the mattress below them. His tongue had reached a depth she had never explored before, her fingers simply not long enough to reach the threshold that he had surpassed, and her thighs quivered in response to the intrusion.
More surprising, her body ached with the stretch it caused, but it also craved more. To feel him lap up every last bubble of need from her cunt, and explore her from inside out. More importantly, even.. to feel him claim her as his, in body and spirit.
Feverish gasps and moans began to echo within her bedroom, bouncing off the walls and debris of shattered furniture. At first, the volume was controlled, as though she were scared of waking other members of the household; to maintain the facade of a lady. But between the realization that this was now her manor, and the overwhelming pleasure that was pulsating through her body with every slight wiggle the tongue inside her made, Isadora's composure shattered.
Tightening her hand within his dark raven locks, her head slammed back into her pillow and her hips lifted from the surface of the mattress. Long nails scraped against what she assumed was his scalp, digging in as she attempted to pull him closer, but it was an impossible feat with his lips already locked against her. Instead, when that failed, her hips rocked impatiently, squirming underneath the motion. Her heavy breathing was interrupted by uneven moans and gasps, every shiver announced in the way her lips trembled and quivered.
"M'lord.." she groaned, eyes clenching as he reached a particularly sensitive spot - her hymen. Her free hand gripped against the silk sheets beneath them, twisting into the material painfully as her hips attempted to retreat. The mattress prevented her from putting much distance between them, and her body lurched forward, coming up in a seated position. Releasing her left hand from the bedding, she propped herself up, and her eyes frantically fell to the half-materialized figure between her legs. "There are no prayers-" she was interrupted by a deep moan that rattled her rib cage as it escaped, and her eyes squeezed shut momentarily as the mixture of pleasure and pain collided. "Your tongue.. is as giving as your protection.."
A whimper escaped after she trailed off, knowing that his protection was beyond her comprehension, and so the comparison matched the sensation he was carrying out on her. And her head fell backwards, her own midnight strands falling back and over her shoulders, leaving her perky breasts bare for his crimson gaze.
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