At the use of the word 'insatiable', Aolieon couldn't help but return a shameless low-toned chuckle. Her fingers found a few tufts of Therrye's hair, and she lightly brushed at them with her fingertips in a place just behind one of her ears. From the outside looking in, one could equate the inverse of a Streetkid proverb to Aolieon's salacious appetites -- give a beggar a single Eddie, and he will buy a scop burrito to eat for a day; give a beggar a million eddies and he will buy scop and eat until he's full... then he will soon realize that scop isn't the only thing for sale.
There was no denying that if life had gone a different way -- Aolieon most likely would have relapsed into becoming a joytoy, just to make ends meet. But the realization that intimacy could be good; that it could be enjoyable, after everything she had been through... it was a revelation that shouldn't have been, but came with the emergence of emotional and moral undertones of a certain person willing to believe in good... and Therrye seemed to be able to tap into that with uncanny intuition -- it made her quite hard to resist...
Everything suddenly subsided with reverent pause, the moment Therrye once again began to touch Aolieon. Her eyes lidded themselves, her jagged mirth softened into sensual attentiveness held comfortably within an inevitably eager reception of the bruiser's warmth. Her back quietly arched at her touch, not pulling itself away but making her skin available; her eyes shut momentarily as the hand swept up her back and nestled itself delicately upon her shoulder. "Game recognizes game, bruiser -- some might prefer a pillow princess, not me..." she tilted her head, opening up her neck to invite her hand to slide itself up into more sensitive crevices upon her body. "But even I can't deny it -- you really know how to artfully serenade a woman... I might even say that you have great taste," she chuckled mmelodicaly, savoring her moment to toot her own horn while being held so lovingly in Therrye's arms.
A small gasp occurred as her hand grazed past her horns. Her eyes slowly shut, and she held her breath, exhaling shakily as she opened her eyes and simply sat within this moment, watching closely as Therrye took her moment to savor her presence. The bruiser herself might have been more grounded in morals and principles of being when it came to the ways she wielded her lust with wisdom, but the dancer made few such reservations, and the fact that Therrye was unwittingly make her work for it was starting to seriously wear her down. Aolieon slowly licked her lips, parting them and breathing carefully as she gazed up and down her body -- her breath grazed the bruiser's lips as she hovered in front of her face, trying so hard to be honorable towards the circumstances under which she had found herself in her embrace once more. Despite all of this, the urge to let loose her desires upon her was palpable.
The touch of a moan escaped Aolieon's lips when Therrye at last went to claim them -- immediately betraying the existence of her own lascivious hunger amidst the carousel of strong emotions and feelings she had been drawn through in the past hour. A low groan followed, carrying with it a note of loving starvation for this feeling which she had quietly been obsessing over for the past 10 days. Aolieon leaned into it, hungrily tasting her lips again and again when she went to lavish them with tongue and teeth. Her hand gently curled up behind Therryes head as her fingers smoothed into the scalp at the back of her head -- the two fingers with filed down nails rubbing up and down to provide extra stimulating reward and quietly beckon for an encore. She nibbled, she licked, she snagged with a need that undressed itself and made itself available in any way it could. Her lips parted to let her tongue in; her body pressed gently against hers in a bid to bury itself underneath Therrye's skin. Her tongue twirled and locked itself with a pressing handshake that threatened to intertwine itself with more fibers of Therrye's being, even at great risk to herself -- she felt the emotional pull and intent to pull away beneath the folds of her mind, and a jilted whine fluttered from her throat as her eyebrows furrowed atop closed eyes which cloaked a fierce desire to abandon all reason... Her breath seemed to lose all sound as her chest rose and fell, having been effectively snatched away from her by the bruiser.
"Can you imagine now?"
"... you make it so hard not to be disrespectful," came the reply from between her teeth.
Aolieon's eyes opened and through amber rings her own lust bared it's teeth, grinding them with a longing sexual frustration. She pulled her head away, shutting her eyes and arcing her chin upwards to try and find a moment of space to stuff her lust into an overfilled trunk which secured intrusive thoughts, dark secrets and dead bodies. Her breath tremored in her throat; the pause between warranted restraint and diving headfirst into feral gratification of one's needs. After a handful of moments, she took a deep breath and exhaled with a shuddering sigh, her hands falling from Therrye's hair and finding convenient places on her back or shoulders to sit. Her eyes had not abated themselves in their betrayal of want; however, everything else had appeared to calm itself. She huffed, and placed her hand on Therrye's chest between the folds of her robe, biting her lip and looking down at where her hand rested like it was the latest in top-of-the-line iron that couldn't be currently afforded. There were things she really wanted to do right now -- hug her, hold her close, steal more kisses, tie her to the bed, dive between her legs until her jaw needed a replacement -- all of those things threatened to rip the last tie-down free, and so Aolieon sat there for several moments, filtering for a rhyme and reason not to. Setting aside all of that, there was no shortage of loving, lustful praise to be found... In Aolieon's words, her body or her mind... and it was high praise to be sure.