[ The answer would be infuriating were she not trying to force her thighs back into some kind of solid mass so she wouldn't collapse from the teasing. Lief's warning is hardly that - there's barely enough time to steady herself as her leg is swung over his shoulder. One hand furiously grips his hair while the other goes to grapple uselessly around the marble column. It takes all of her willpower not to immediately rock into his mouth and tongue but with all her concentration focused there, the moan she lets out is wanton and unrestrained.
Their close run in with some faceless party goers means that she's well aware that there are others in the maze with them, but she can't bring herself to care. If they find two masked-ish strangers in a state of disarray then so be it. Hopefully the fey wouldn't take offence. All she can focus on is how her body feels like it could melt at at any moment with the way his tongue deftly works her clit. Her leg tightens around his neck, back arching, desperate to smother him between her thighs, to have more of his mouth on her.
Another whine rips from her lips, mildly incensed that the pretty lingerie she had chosen tonight is acting more like a hindrance than ever intended. Because instead of his fingers inside of her, they're being kept busy holding back the delicate lace. Trusting that the grip of her leg will hold her up, she chances unwinding her arm from around the column. It snakes down towards the fabric, tugging it aside for him. The brush of her own fingers against her swollen folds wrings the smallest whimper from her - a testament to what he's doing to her. ]
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Their close run in with some faceless party goers means that she's well aware that there are others in the maze with them, but she can't bring herself to care. If they find two masked-ish strangers in a state of disarray then so be it. Hopefully the fey wouldn't take offence. All she can focus on is how her body feels like it could melt at at any moment with the way his tongue deftly works her clit. Her leg tightens around his neck, back arching, desperate to smother him between her thighs, to have more of his mouth on her.
Another whine rips from her lips, mildly incensed that the pretty lingerie she had chosen tonight is acting more like a hindrance than ever intended. Because instead of his fingers inside of her, they're being kept busy holding back the delicate lace. Trusting that the grip of her leg will hold her up, she chances unwinding her arm from around the column. It snakes down towards the fabric, tugging it aside for him. The brush of her own fingers against her swollen folds wrings the smallest whimper from her - a testament to what he's doing to her. ]