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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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I’m close to meeting a humble milestone so in celebration I’ve decided to host a wee art giveaway!
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3rd Place: Portrait sketch
2nd Place: Flat colour portrait with simple background
1st Place: Flat colour bust/halfbody with simple background
RULES
You must be following me! And it’d be real nice if you didn’t follow just to leave when the giveaway is over; I’d like to see folks sticking around
My usual rules as per my commissions apply to these prizes
Likes and Reblogs both count as entries. Multiple reblogs will be counted, but please don’t spam your followers!
Winners will be selected via a random number generator
Winners will be drawn on February 17th!
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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to find your blog on masterlist!:
reblog this post!
tag it with your canon or orginal/character name/single or multi blog.
example: canon, Geralt, multimuse.
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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Sing, from Reni ♡ (she's probs singing some kind of dryad lullaby or something)
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Lyron lived for moments such as these. 
The golden hour had passed in a haze of glowing motes dancing on the lancing beams of light that speared through the gaps in the trees; leaving in its wake the parma violet bliss of steadily icy twilight. The sky was stained with watercolour streaks of pink, purple and blue, marked by the snaking black veins of the skeletal trees, free of their burden of dying leaves that lay in blankets over the forest floor.
Pan, the great king of the forests, was falling into his slumber; and in the crook of his arm he would hold the dying sun until the last of its fire died with him. There was sadness, but there was the promise of joy too; he would be reborn soon enough. He needed to rest - what flower could bloom all year long?
Such a strange mixture of emotions was imbued in the Incubus’ song that eve. A halfhearted threnody for the death of the all father - and an exaltation of him too. A lullaby to guide him to his winter rest. A wordless plea for him to return soon, and for him to to rekindle a light to lead them out of the darkest months as the wheel turned.
But his celebration and mourning was not done alone; a heavenly voice rose so sweetly to his fiddle that he found his grip lessen on his bow, pressing it so lightly to the strings now it barely seemed to touch them at all. All in aid of hearing that voice; fingers darted over the neck of the instrument unsupervised by his watchful gaze for it was far too preoccupied with the elfin siren.
What a muse he had found. The forest was her kingdom as much as his, and he felt as though for once he was the subject, the humbled courtier. Another now wore the crown, haloed by the dying light against her fiery hair as she lost herself in her sweet pipings, oblivious to how the world around her held its breath to hear her. 
He had always had a fondness for the song of robins.
                     @midwinter-fox
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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Forest encounter, Marko Horvatin
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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Plants a kiss against her cheek with an audible smack - distracting her from the 'Ask me if I can smell burning' sign he sticks to her back (From Lyron ♡)
His loud smooch to he cheek is met with a smile, but she doesn’t return the gesture - as much as she might want to. Instead she reaches up to trace a finger along his cheek. She doesn’t notice that he’s placed a sign on her back, but once she finds out..? 
He can rest assured that she’d have her payback in the form of buckets of cold water when he least expected it. 
For the time being, should anyone ask her if she smells something burning, she’d be quick to jump into the nearest pool of water. 
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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She heaves a sigh against him and buries her face into his neck. Odd how he was such a comfort after a frightening dream. Men don't usually make her feel that way.
"Nightmare," she mumbles against him, but doesn't bother elaborating. He could probably tell by the wild beating of her heart that it most assuredly was an especially unpleasant nightmare at that.
*instead of pulling on his tail this time, she sneaks up and taps him on the shoulder, and when he turns, she pulls him into a hug* ((have some soft from Reni after that nightmare I had ;-; ))
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Well now; here was a surprise.
A sunshine smile broke out over the incubus’ face and without any preamble he returned Reni’s embrace, his arms slipping around her, beard scratching and tickling against her skin as he pressed a strong kiss to her cheek.
“Good morning to you too, little robin! To what do I owe the pleasure, hmm? Not that I’m complaining.”
                    @midwinter-fox
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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Her normally well-aimed arrow turned out to be a well-aimed mistake. She hadn’t been aiming for the fiend - quite the contrary, she aimed for a spot behind it in an attempt to ward off an intruder, only for her foot to lose traction on the branch on which she’d perched herself. The fiend’s terrible roar had scared off the intruder thankfully - a lost traveler from what it looked like, but an intruder nonetheless - but when she’d hastily scrambled to her feet after plummeting to the ground, the fiend caught sight of her and correctly determined that she was the reason for its pain. 
Never had she thought she’d be grateful for the presence of another, as solitary as she tended to be, but that Lyron happened to have borne witness to her blunder made her flush. She hadn’t meant to insult it at all, but it was a bit late for that. A fiend wouldn’t be likely to accept an apology as recompense for being shot. When she opened her mouth to retort, the beast charged, and though she could be quite nimble herself, the sight of the behemoth racing forward to gore her with its antlers froze her in place until Lyron roughly shoved her out of the way and only barely managed to keep clear of its path as well. 
There weren’t many things that frightened her. Normally, she left the beasts of the forest well enough alone, and in turn, they rarely bothered her. A frenzied fiend was frightening, but nothing made her heart stutter in her chest like the fire that ignited in Lyron’s hands. Was he planning on combating it with fire?! 
“NO! Lyron, don’t please, if you can’t calm it down, don’t bother - just RUN.” She couldn’t let him fight on her behalf, nor could she let him hurt the beast when it was her fault it was riled in the first place. It had more of a right being in this forest than she did - she didn’t plan on hurting it more than she had. The glancing blow that came from her arrow hardly did any damage. It would live if she could just get far enough away that it no longer felt threatened or else scare it off with a loud enough sound. 
Unfortunately, she wasn’t capable of any loud enough sounds, so running was the best option. As much as she wanted - no, needed - Lyron to follow, she wouldn’t go near him with flames dancing about his fingers. 
“We need to go now!” Before the creature came charging back.
Push ((from Reni))
push :   my  muse  pushing  your  muse  out  of  the  way  of  danger.
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“Have you gone quite mad?” The incubus bellowed to be heard over the din as the Fiend ahead of them roared it’s fury; mostly due to the arrow stuck in it’s shoulder like a splinter, landed there by a well meaning but panicked elfin lass. An elfin lass who was currently being stared at exasperatedly by an Incubus very much out of his depth.
“Why not insult his mother whilst you’re at it you-” He didn’t have time to finish his scolding. The fiend was rearing up with clawed forefeet striking out and branching tines raking in an arc. Cloven hind limbs pawed at the earth hard enough to leave trenches, breaths billowing from a sharp snort and hindquarters bunching before it lowered its head in a charge.
Lyron noticed just in time; he turned wide eyed and acted without thinking, speed and dexterity on his side as his hands collided roughly with Reni to shove her out of the chargers’ path. Dancing away on sprightly legs he felt a tine graze through the plume of his tail, springing out of the way himself just in time as the beasts momentum cause a breeze that stirred his own hair.
He wheeled in a circle to turn just as the beast did, setting his cloven feet squarely into the earth with his tail thrashing, palms clawing upwards as flames erupted between his fingers.
“Any more bright ideas?” He called sarcastically over his shoulder; and though his voice was high with nerves, he kept himself firmly between Reni and the beast.
                    @midwinter-fox
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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feasgaran mentioned you in a post
…      @ midwinter-fox
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And run away she does, laughter bubbling up from her as she takes to the trees like the little bird he purported her to be. The forest is her home just as much as his - see if he can catch her when she leaps from the branches over his head. 
Toying with incubi really did make for such wonderful sport. It’s even more fun when she stops to drop from the trees and dance just out of his grasp. She’s surprisingly nimble for such a tall woman.
“If you promise not to singe me, perhaps I will let you catch me!”
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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For someone to intercept her when she fled certain death wasn't something Elrenie had hoped for nor wanted, but seeing those pointed ears and sharper features filled her with equal parts dread and relief. While cold eyes examined her, Elrenie stayed still and silent, her own eyes downcast submissively. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, as she awaited some form of verdict, and with the proximity of the other elf, Elrenie wondered if the commander could hear her heart as it thundered against her ribcage.
Was she going to be permitted to stay..? Or was she to be hunted again?
Upon being beckoned to follow by the dark-haired woman, she released a breath she hadn't realized that she held. Her anxiety still wracked her, but the familiar elven term plus the promise of sustenance did help alleviate it if only partially. Though hesitant, she followed.
"Thank you," she murmured, only barely loud enough for them to hear. Food and water sounded too enticing for her to care about having to go over the details of her plight. She needed to eat, and after all of her running, she was parched as well. The mere suggestion that she may be able to eat made her stomach growl loudly.
@midwinter-fox​
Hands clasped behind her back, Toruviel was standing only an inch away from the red haired elven woman, casting a highly critical eye at her as she analyzed the other. Judging from her worn clothes and bruised ear, the stranger had barely escaped execution, then again, is she really the only survivor? Was she actually the best among the unit? Toruviel looked away for a moment, trying to banish all her negative thoughts and speculations, turning her thoughts toward raw facts. 
In addition, she’d rather spit in her own face than to reject an elf in need - she knew only too well what it’s like from the other side. The commander gave her a last, cold look before she nodded at the young one, gesturing her to follow her. If anything goes down, her men’d cut her down in just a blink of an eye, that adds a certain safety, after all.
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“Come sor’ca; eat and drink first, let’s save the gruesome details for later.˝
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midwinter-fox · 4 years
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There were so many questions - too many questions - that rattled about in her head, but she would settle with answering his by gesturing vaguely to his legs. That was, after all, the only part of him she could clearly see, for the rest of him had been mostly enshrouded in shrubbery. However, upon focusing primarily on his lower half, she found herself quickly dismayed.
He was most decidedly not goat, if the fact that he was standing there in all his remarkably humanlike nude glory was any indication.
Quickly, her eyes shot to literally anywhere but at him, and in doing so she noticed something on the ground just behind him. A flute - perhaps his and why he'd been crawling about in the brush - lay there very near his hooves, and she hadn't a doubt in her mind that she'd made him drop it by spontaneously yanking him out of the bushes. Red-faced and wanting to suddenly divert the attention off of herself, she reached around him and picked it up, keeping herself low to the ground for the fact that she sorely wished she could melt into it.
"H.. Here. I apologize." Her words were almost clipped, but if there was any agitation on her part, it was directed at herself. Regardless, she still refused to look at him as she stood and held out the flute. She stood only perhaps three or four inches shorter than him, and yet her eyes were off to the side, her embarrassment making her quite literally incapable of meeting his own stern gaze. "My mistake, Lyron."
She looked every bit like she wanted to flee, and if she weren't attempting to remedy her mistake by being somewhat polite, she probably would've taken off. What was worse was that every movement of his tail made her want to draw her eyes back onto him, but the temptation was fought with what remaining willpower she had after using most of it to keep from turning tail and running back to the safety and seclusion of her perch. Her other hand reached up as if to brush at her hair - a nervous tic of hers - but she stopped herself and instead settled with toying with the bow on her arm to keep that hand busy.
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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“don’t!” (She's probably pulling his tail again or something assdffs - From Lyron)
Her finger was less than an inch from his tail, but it stopped just short, her eyes owlish and her mouth making a small ‘o’ in surprise. How’d he know? He wasn’t even looking at her! Rather than press her luck, she pouted and brought her hand back and said nothing. 
Okay, while she had a chance, she reached out and gave his tail a quick little pet before pursing her lips and returning her hand to her lap before he could turn to glare at her. Her eyes were anywhere but on him.
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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“don’t shoot!” [simplly-lilly]
What was more startling? That this intruder seemed to know she was about to be shot or that she seemed to know exactly where Elrenie was perched from fifty yards off? This woman looked dressed to kill, and the elf didn’t like that one bit. There were beings to protect in this forest, and Elrenie had brought it upon herself to be the one to protect them. 
“Who are you. Lay down your weapons and state your purpose.” 
Traditionally, a dryad would fire a warning arrow at the trespasser’s feet just before they stepped into her territory. As such, an arrow was fired to land just beside Lily’s booted foot - a sign to show that Elrenie meant business. Before that arrow had a chance to hit the dirt, there was already another arrow nocked and aimed.
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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“Don’t” Sentence Starters
Change word choice, punctuation, and pronouns, or add any additional context as-needed.
“don’t!”
“don’t tell anyone.”
“don’t laugh.”
“don’t cry.”
“don’t worry.”
“don’t think about that.”
“don’t hide!”
“don’t eat that!”
“don’t drink that!”
“don’t shoot!”
“don’t talk to them like that!”
“don’t make excuses!”
“don’t flatter yourself!”
“don’t say a word!”
“don’t go near them!”
“don’t lie!”
“don’t use it!”
“don’t get too close!”
“don’t talk!”
“don’t say that!”
“don’t leave!”
“don’t go there!”
“don’t touch that!”
“don’t touch me!”
+ add your own!
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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hurt sentence starters blood, broken bone mention.
“you’re going to have a bruise.”
“it won’t heal if you keep picking at it.”
“you were out for a few days. how are you feeling?”
“absolutely not. you’ll pop your stitches.” 
“take it easy. you’re in rough shape.”
“those pain meds knocked you out.”
“where’d you get that bloody nose?”
“make a fist for me.” 
“where does it hurt?” 
“ow, ow, ow.”
“that’s going to need stitches.”
“shit, that hurts.”
“is it broken?”
“keep ice on it.”
“ouch!” 
“i can’t even look. is it bad? wait, don’t tell me.” 
“you shouldn’t be walking around right now.”
“how am i supposed to sleep with all these bandages?”
“stay in bed and let me look after you.” 
“there, you’re all patched up.” 
“let me help you to your room.”
“how many fingers am i holding up?”
“take your time. slow, slow. you’re doing great.”
“you could have a concussion. ”
“i’m okay. you can stop hovering.”
“you’re lucky. you could have gotten seriously hurt.”
“how exactly did you manage to give yourself a black eye?” 
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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That the figure stood on two legs instead of four left Elrenie utterly shocked, and the harsh jerking of this person(?) from her grip made her lose her footing and fall flat on her rump, eyes wide as she stared up with hazel-eyed horror. She was speechless, else she might have used her mouth for something other than hanging open.
What manner of being was he? She'd yet to encounter anything like this - not exactly at least. Goat legs, horns, tufted tail - he looked like a succubus without the lady bits. Elrenie had encountered plenty of those, but he couldn't be one himself, clearly.
She'd seen many succubi in the forest and had even felled a predator or two in pursuit of them, but she otherwise hadn't had much encounters with them. They were sex demons, were they not? She was sure they had a male counterpart, but she couldn't remember what they were called for the life of her. Could that be what he was..? His glare and the angry swishing of his tail eventually pulled her from her stupor to speak.
"I.. I thought you.. needed help..?" Her voice was soft, barely even heard over the natural sounds of the forest around them. "What.. are you?"
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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@feasgaran
There were some strange things in the forest when no one was looking, but when you immersed yourself in it, became one with it, you witnessed a great many things that eventually just became normal. A great many people and creatures enjoyed the lake when the weather was warm, and that day was an oddly warm one. Thus, it wasn’t very strange to see people swimming and bathing in the clear, refreshing waters. 
What was strange was the large goat that seemed stuck in the brush a short way from the water’s edge, like it had wandered through the foliage to get to the water itself but then somehow got its hindquarters caught on a branch or something to that effect. Elrenie, having a soft spot for the wildlife, had noticed, but only because she kept vigil over those frolicking in the water in case necrophages took notice or they decided to wander into territory that wasn’t theirs. Upon seeing the poor creature, she made it a point to see if she could get him unstuck.
“You alright..?” She didn’t expect an answer - it was a goat after all. “Poor little guy. Here, I’ll take care of you.” 
Of course, when she took hold of it and pulled, she did NOT expect the other half to be, well, not goat. 
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midwinter-fox · 5 years
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Dreams + Author’s Note
I haven’t posted a thing in a hot minute, but here we go. Another Dettlaff/OC fic, but hey, it’s spicy. Been having a lot of writer’s block lately, but Imma try to get back into the groove of things at some point. I’m also working on a Geralt/Ronvid crack ship (if you don’t know Ronvid from Witcher 3, please, look him up, he’s an idiot), so I may be posting some of that here, too. I know, FINALLY something that isn’t Dettlaff related. What’s the world coming to? 
For Leonore, sleep was sacred. There wasn't a doubt in her vampiric lover's mind that she would sleep her own life away if he let her. While Dettlaff preferred having her awake enough to be aware of his affections, he still enjoyed cuddling her as she slept. She may be unconscious, but she would still sigh and hum at his tender caresses, and that was all that mattered. The happy noises she made whilst he soothed her to sleep helped bring him peace and comfort, especially in knowing that he made his mate happy.
Perhaps the best thing about nights like these was that he could practically do whatever he pleased with her while she slumbered - hold her in his arms however he wished, for she would remain deeply asleep no matter how he arranged her. At times, he'd be satisfied with simple spooning, but with mere suggestion, he could turn and have her wrap her arms about him instead. He could pick her up and cradle her if he wanted to, which he sometimes did when he needed to move her further from the edge of the bed lest she fall right off. His favorite, however, was when she draped her entire body across him. Her head would be on his chest, breasts squished to him like fleshy pillows, and her thighs parting so her legs could rest on either side of him. It allowed for him to feel as close as possible to her, but if he wished to remain awake and busy his mind with a book or idle sketching, he could do so easily. Sometimes when she fidgeted in her sleep, her hips would press against his and make him falter in his reading or drawing, but it was never unwanted - simply a delightful bonus.
One such night, as the two slept, he felt that familiar press of her core against his groin. It roused him from his own slumber only momentarily, but as he drifted back off, she moved again, this time a soft whine finding its way past her slightly parted lips. At first he thought that maybe she'd woken and was trying to proposition him for intimacy, but eventually she stopped moving and settled back down with a sigh.
Was.. was she dreaming, perhaps..? It wouldn't be the first time, but usually she didn't grind against him when it happened. When she did it again, he inwardly cursed. He was loathe to wake her for absolutely anything, especially with how irate she could be even if she were woken with the promise of sex and food. No, nothing was more important to her than her sleep (much to his own displeasure), so Dettlaff remained still and silent though her hips continued to press against his growing erection. The only thing she ever wore to bed was his shirt and cotton underthings, but he always slept completely nude. There had never been an issue until now, and he wished he could just tear her underwear from her without the risk of rousing her from her sleep.
The friction of dampened cloth against the sensitive skin of his member was driving him mad, and while he could just as easily move her, the sensation was exquisite. Precum was already seeping from his cock and soaking into the shirt she wore, making the fabric stick to their skin as she moved against him. The more she moved, the less inclined he was to stop her, especially when her sleepy mewls graced his ears. Before long, he was gently holding her hips and grinding back, his breathing labored as he now sought to please himself against her.
As wonderful as she felt against him like this, eventually cloth against skin began to agitate already tender flesh. With a grunt, he attempted to move in just a way that he could perhaps allow his member to slide against her skin under the shirt, but his soiling the fabric made it difficult to move without pestering her too much. Damn it all, but it felt so good to have her grinding against him like this. Her dreams must be pleasant indeed for her to still be trying to move against him, and he almost wondered if there was truly any harm in simply slipping inside of her. Whatever it was she dreamt, he hoped it was visions of him that had her so unconsciously eager to please herself.
Resolve was growing increasingly difficult to hold onto firmly when she moaned so delightfully in her slumber, so he abandoned it in favor of seeking pleasure himself. Gently as he could muster, he traced a claw along the seams of the shirt she wore, the fabric rending easily like a hot knife through butter. With it now effectively shredded, he could easily pull the remains from beneath her rather than trying to disrobe her. It would've no doubt woken her, and the vampire wasn't too keen on having her glare and growl at him when she'd been rubbing her body against him just moments before.
The shirt was gone, but her panties were still in place. Those were much easier to remove, but as soon as he gently ripped them from her, he had to take in a sharp breath to keep from moaning aloud. She was so wet, her dripping womanhood all but begging for him to sink himself inside her. Alas, to do so would be to ask for her ire, for she'd surely wake as soon as he took that plunge. Instead, he forced himself to be satisfied with her slick skin sliding against his. His body hair was providing additional friction for her, for she was now panting against him as she pressed herself to him time and again. The head of his erection was practically already inside her, but he had to bite his cheek to stop himself from thrusting fully into her.
Hands on her waist, he tried to resituate her body so that he wasn't so close to just diving right in, but she stilled and groggily groaned, this time in irritation. Immediately he stilled and waited. If she woke now, all of this would have been for naught; she would turn over onto her side away from him and he would be left to his sexual frustration. Should that be the case, he wasn’t sure how he would get through the night without having to slip away and finish what was started himself.
After a minute, she began settling back down, but she did not try to grind against him. Just as he was beginning to internally beat himself for having made her stop, it happened again. Her hips pressed against him once more, making him sharply gasp when the first inch of his cock slid effortlessly into her warmth. This time, he refused to move lest she stop again, but he needn't do anything more.
Before long, she was once again rutting against him, the head of his cock slipping in and out of her with each little movement. Now he was panting against her, wanting so badly to fuck her senselessly, but he would allow for this to suffice - he had to, or else face her tired wrath. All of this, from the smallest movements to the faintest moans, had him going crazy with lust. How could she remain totally unaware of all of this? Her dreaming had her ensnared in her own mind, allowing him to relish in the sexual aftermath of the vivid visions she lived.
It wasn't too much longer of this painful teasing before he was beginning to feel that aching in his balls, the coil in his groin tightening with his encroaching release. This was getting uncomfortable now, especially with how he was only having that first inch of his member stroked by her inner walls, the rest of him neglected to his dismay. The closer he crept to bliss, he began to have his doubts. Just how angry would she be to wake naked and covered in his spend? If he tried to care for her afterwards, would she awaken and think him some sort of lecher for taking advantage of her in her sleep? The doubts were effectively staving off the ever increasing desire for release - that is, until her whole body shuddered against him. The clamping of her cunt on his cock made him inadvertently gasp, but it was the moan that tore from her lips that made rationality shatter around him. "Nnh.. Dettlaff..."
Before he could try to stop or remove himself from her, he came hard. All of her relentless teasing, though she was unconscious, was so thoroughly frustrating that his release hit him like a ton of bricks. He could feel his seed dripping out of her, trickling along his thighs and taint to soak into the linens beneath them. Just when he began to inwardly kick himself, he felt a hand reach up to stroke his cheek and soft lips press a kiss to his chest.
"Enjoy yourself..?"
"How long have you been awake?" Dettlaff's rough voice was firm despite all that had just happened, clearly conveying his demand for answers.
Had she been playing with him this whole time? No, it couldn't be. There was no change in her resting heart rate until she began grinding against him, but even then he could tell she was unconscious.
"Mm.. Around the time you ripped off my clothes. I didn't have the heart to ruin your fun. You seemed really.. into it." Leonore emphasized her little play on words with another press of her hips, this time sinking herself down onto him fully. He was still very aroused, both thanks to his immense stamina and her earlier teasing. As soon as she was seated on him, he allowed himself to betray his pleasure with a low groan.
"You will pay for that." The awful way she used him needed to be punished, and he'd deliver such punishment in a way that benefit him this time. She wanted to play these teasing games? Oh, he'd play them with her all damned night.
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