A Thousand Rainy Days

Her paws tightened in their grip on him, her nails flexing into his skin to maintain her grip. This was a new sensation - the rhythm of their bodies, the feel of him inside her with every thrust, the lingering pain that gradually receded with her growing desire. His body was pressed against her own, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. His growls of pleasure echoed in her ears, and she couldn’t help her own panting moans with each quick thrust he met her with.

Laying beneath him, Talyssa clenched her eyes tightly, allowing herself to let go of the reigns of any waning control she had left. She had submitted to him as he guided their movements, and she thought of nothing else but the riptide of pleasure washing over her, drowning her senses in a sea of ecstasy. Her body was buzzing with anticipation, the thrill of what could come saturating her senses. As Quill's movements changed pace, she instinctively knew something monumental was about to happen. Their bodies were locked together in a beautiful tempo of desire and need, the world around them fading into nothingness as they each chased after their own pleasure.

And then, suddenly, he pulled away. Her breath hitched in her throat as a wave of disappointment crashed over her. His warm seed spilled onto her belly, leaving a sticky trail that marked his claim on her. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, the silence between them deafening as she struggled to catch her breath. She was disoriented and it took her a moment to comprehend what had just happened. The realization washed over her like a wave crashing on the shore - Quill had claimed her, yes, but he had also denied himself. Restrained his own pleasure to give her a choice. Her shock was quickly replaced with wonder and a newfound admiration for him. Even in the thralls of passion, he had thought of her. Even when she forgot to think for herself.

Her body still throbbed with the desire of their lovemaking as she tried to answer him. "I..." she began, her voice barely a whisper, before swallowing hard and trying again. "I'm okay," she assured him, forcing a weak smile. As their eyes met, she reached up to run her fingers lightly over his cheek, tracing the planes of his face. "Thank you," she whispered, the words mingling with the soft breezes that swept across the plains. She meant it for more than the pleasure he had given her, more than his self-restraint. It was for him being there, for showing her something new, something beautiful - even if painful and raw. She felt a strange mix of euphoria and embarrassment, all underlaid with an odd sense of satisfaction. “Are you okay?” Was it okay?

"Talyssa Carpathius"