~ HARTH ~
Normally that first joining was a singular pleasure, a slow rush that she felt from her scalp to her toes, but this time, as he growled her name and took her, over and over, each thrust harder and faster than the one before, the rush didn't stop. She was climbing, already climbing towards that peak, that glittering wave.
"Tark…. Tarkyn…" her voice was high, quavering, but she couldn't care. She gripped him, one hand fisted in his hair, the other curled around his bicep to give her leverage to arch against him.
"I need you," he groaned, his jaw tight and eyes fierce on her. "I can't stop, Harth—I will—"
"Don't stop… don't stop!" she gasped, her body clenching around him, her breath tearing in and out of her throat, her skin pebbled from her neck to her knees. "Don't stop Tarkyn!"
Her cry was desperate and frail, her body shaking with pleasure and the anguish of beckoning desire.
