[ In a(nother) different version of the world they lived in, she wouldn't feel the twist of conflict she does now, with her hand curving tightly around the shape of his cock while his works between her thighs, fingers stroking over her clit and leaving her gasping right along with the painting behind them. Wanting him like this is out of line, out of the question, a misguided desire neither of them has any business feeling, much less indulging in, but he's made it impossible for her to do anything but seek out more of him.
Her head is swimming too much to be sure, but Aerith thinks she can hear one of the figures in the painting mutter to the other about enemies to lovers and how hot that is, not that she's in any position to fire off a rebuff. Right now, there's little beyond the steadily building ache that flares earnestly with every brush of his fingertips.
Aerith's hand feels hot against his cock, massaging the shape of him before urgency finds her moving away again to tug the fly of his jeans open, her hand delving beneath the fabric of his clothes and fisting loosely around his cock, another moan stifled against his mouth as she relishes in feeling him like this. ]
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Her head is swimming too much to be sure, but Aerith thinks she can hear one of the figures in the painting mutter to the other about enemies to lovers and how hot that is, not that she's in any position to fire off a rebuff. Right now, there's little beyond the steadily building ache that flares earnestly with every brush of his fingertips.
Aerith's hand feels hot against his cock, massaging the shape of him before urgency finds her moving away again to tug the fly of his jeans open, her hand delving beneath the fabric of his clothes and fisting loosely around his cock, another moan stifled against his mouth as she relishes in feeling him like this. ]