She closed her to the grind, a soft moan escaping as Carm was already wound up enough as it is. She thought if she could distract Laura long enough Mircalla would gain some freedom, maybe a second or two before Laura stopped her again and put her back in her place. Of course Carmilla was getting off on her double unable to do anything. Unable to touch her girl.
That second of bliss was short lived when the tables were turned. Something Carm did not see coming. At the word freeze she held opposite Mircalla, their eyes locked but able see Laura move around them. She didn’t think Laura would have picked up on the deliberate distraction to twist the knife into Mircalla’s back but with being frozen it was too late to talk her way out of the it. At this point Laura was hitting all of Carm’s buttons. A spectrum between anger, lust and jealously was burning through her veins. Calling Mircalla the good one? Carm the bad? Carm swore she saw Mircalla’s eyes curve into a wicked smile and burn right through her.
On purpose Mircalla then closed them and purred at Laura’s hand, welcoming the touch like never before. The increasingly wicked antics at Carmilla was a darker side of Laura that Mircalla loved and wanted to see more of.
The purr then got louder. The moan at the pinch, the throb of pleasure that ached between her legs at Laura’s mouth on her back of her neck. Just her breath gave Mircalla goose bumps. She liked this darker side of Laura. This one she would have no problems letting her be in control.
She growled with a mixture of frustration and lust. As if Laura could read her mind a gasp caught her throat when she felt her hand slip between her legs. Mircalla was wet, pulsing for fingers to play.
Her double frozen like she was stuck on the other side of a mirror, was forced to watch every slow moment. Carmilla whimpered with jealousy, able to feel those little echoes in waves and bursts but never fully. Laura was hers. All hers. Carms possessive eyes closed for a second, swearing she could feel Laura’s hand, wanting to feel her hand instead of a shadow of what could be. She growled louder than before. It was the closes she could get to an internal scream of sexual envy.
The more she growled, the more Mircalla moaned at Laura’s touch, giving herself for Laura to do more.
no subject
That second of bliss was short lived when the tables were turned. Something Carm did not see coming. At the word freeze she held opposite Mircalla, their eyes locked but able see Laura move around them. She didn’t think Laura would have picked up on the deliberate distraction to twist the knife into Mircalla’s back but with being frozen it was too late to talk her way out of the it. At this point Laura was hitting all of Carm’s buttons. A spectrum between anger, lust and jealously was burning through her veins. Calling Mircalla the good one? Carm the bad? Carm swore she saw Mircalla’s eyes curve into a wicked smile and burn right through her.
On purpose Mircalla then closed them and purred at Laura’s hand, welcoming the touch like never before. The increasingly wicked antics at Carmilla was a darker side of Laura that Mircalla loved and wanted to see more of.
The purr then got louder. The moan at the pinch, the throb of pleasure that ached between her legs at Laura’s mouth on her back of her neck. Just her breath gave Mircalla goose bumps. She liked this darker side of Laura. This one she would have no problems letting her be in control.
She growled with a mixture of frustration and lust. As if Laura could read her mind a gasp caught her throat when she felt her hand slip between her legs. Mircalla was wet, pulsing for fingers to play.
Her double frozen like she was stuck on the other side of a mirror, was forced to watch every slow moment. Carmilla whimpered with jealousy, able to feel those little echoes in waves and bursts but never fully. Laura was hers. All hers. Carms possessive eyes closed for a second, swearing she could feel Laura’s hand, wanting to feel her hand instead of a shadow of what could be. She growled louder than before. It was the closes she could get to an internal scream of sexual envy.
The more she growled, the more Mircalla moaned at Laura’s touch, giving herself for Laura to do more.