Lol, I think I just made like... a sex poem... ah ha, well, whatever. Last day of Graylu week! Yay! I mean, it's sad, but it was just a bit stressful for me, who hasn't ever done it before. :/ Well, I liked it anyways! Loved it, I mean. Okay, enjoy!
Five Senses
She was spread out underneath him, her golden hair splashing across the white pillow, her lips red and swollen from kissing him. Her cheeks pink from the exercise, her skin glistening with sweat. She squirmed in pleasure, her brown eyes half open and staring up at him lovingly. She was overwhelmingly beautiful, and he couldn't even match up to her. She would always be his light, his sun. He loved her.
She allowed herself to brush her hands down his bare, hot chest. Her cheeks grew warmer still as she felt him, his smoother-than-silk skin, his soft black hair, his hips thrusting against hers in a steady, euphoric motion. She could feel him slide into her, then back out again. The sensation of her skin pressing against him, her form fitting to his, his chest against hers, it was all so amazing. She'd always longed for this intimacy, this relationship, this love. And she would treasure it. He would always be her hope, her moon.
Gray leaned down to kiss her, and she gladly accepted. Her soft lips moved under his in perfect sync, tasting vaguely of strawberry lip gloss, but now a mixture of sweat and that fruity drink she'd had earlier at the guild made his tongue want to explore more of her mouth. Most of all, she tasted like... like her. A unique, amazing taste that only Lucy had. Sweeter than any candy, softer than any cotton. She was her, and he loved it.
As Lucy breathed in, a tangle of scents caught in her nose. The candles that had been lit before still left an underlying smell of roses and cinnamon made her sinuses tingle. But that was only the first layer. A heavier, musky scent had risen to hang in the air, a scent that only the two of them could make. But mostly, at their closeness, she could really only smell him. That sharp, tangy smell of mint and vanilla, that scent that made her squirm when he got too close, that scent that drove her wild. It was him, and she loved it.
Their ears were filled with many sounds. The sounds of the sheets rustling as they moved together, the brush of their skin as they connected, the loud moans that escaped their lips. Oh, those sounds! The moans were like a song to them, a song that they loved to listen to. One with a beautiful harmony that only they could manage, a song in which no words were spoken aloud, but the thousands of so many things they needed to say were exchanged between the glances, the sounds, the touches. Nothing, nothing in the world would ever be able to part them. Nothing.
Because she was his, and he was hers. And it would be that way forever.