[ the bite is not dissimilar to the sudden crack of a flogger or even the strike of a palm — it hurts more, to be sure, and he highly doubts midnight did it for his pleasure, but embry is in his own head just like midnight is barely there with him right now. the sudden flush of pain drives him quickly from his waning sense of reality, feeling very much like any nameless hole midnight could be fucking into, though he doesn't much mind that part. embry is used to being the center of attention in bed, is used to his partners adoring him and his charming smile and his regency face, but things have been very different since he's been severed from ash's side. he can barely find the will to get it up most days unless the resort decides to poison him or something convenient like this happens, like midnight's teeth digging into his shoulder, blood dripping down his skin.
he was hard before, but his cock is begging for release now, embry's jaw tight as he grunts into the soft grass, pushing back against midnight's erratic thrusts as he strokes himself, rough and unforgiving. he can feel that midnight's close, feel the tremors in his muscles and how his grip gets harder, more bruising. there's nothing sweet or even pleasant about it once embry spills wet and hot all over his hand, shuddering less from sex's sweet relief than being released from the pollen's lingering effects, his desperation easing away, replaced by sticky exhaustion and throbbing pain, grass clinging damply to the sweat on his skin. or blood. who knows.
embry forces himself up, the light dazzling despite it all being artificial. he doesn't even turn around to look at midnight, sitting in the grass while he briefly presses the heel of his palm over his eyes, trying to stop the dizziness that accompanies his sudden movements.
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he was hard before, but his cock is begging for release now, embry's jaw tight as he grunts into the soft grass, pushing back against midnight's erratic thrusts as he strokes himself, rough and unforgiving. he can feel that midnight's close, feel the tremors in his muscles and how his grip gets harder, more bruising. there's nothing sweet or even pleasant about it once embry spills wet and hot all over his hand, shuddering less from sex's sweet relief than being released from the pollen's lingering effects, his desperation easing away, replaced by sticky exhaustion and throbbing pain, grass clinging damply to the sweat on his skin. or blood. who knows.
embry forces himself up, the light dazzling despite it all being artificial. he doesn't even turn around to look at midnight, sitting in the grass while he briefly presses the heel of his palm over his eyes, trying to stop the dizziness that accompanies his sudden movements.
time to fucking go. ]