Even as a vampire, there is only so much your memory can truly take. From the ridiculously nauseating misinterpretations in newer media, it seems implied that you can recall every given moment of your life as soon as you are bitten. With absolute certainty, you can say that is most certainly not the case. You remember the major events; your death, rebirth, your first meal as a so called creature of the night, the first time you lured someone into your mother's trap, traveling, Elle, the coffin, escape and other things of that nature. You remember the big stuff, and the rest is just hellish sensory memory that you think you may have been cursed with in life, but you don't fully recall. You never fully recall, and maybe that's why you're so irritated by this foolish idealistic trope.
The funny thing about sensory memory, though? It leads actions. Stream of consciousness, you know it to be called that anyways, is a huge driving factor in your life. Your mind forgets, but your body most definitely remembers. By God, does your body remember every little damn thing that has happened in the past three hundred years. All the lives you've lead, the maidens you've drawn like a siren to their inevitable ends, the bodies you've manipulated like toys under your fingertips. Sometimes, it overwhelms you, the need to let your memory consume your actions, to follow patterns that were once toxic and hellish and all consuming. To feel powerful and in control over something, some little thing that you have perfected.
Now is definitely one of those times.
It's not even as though anything in particular is happening, it is a morbidly normal day. Your tiny human, a nickname which you're pretty sure she hates but hasn't explicitly objected to yet, is working on what you still think is a slightly ridiculous and entirely unneeded vlog. Her need to document things truly has become pathological, but making jokes about it or even talking about it would probably just make it worse, so you keep your snark as contained as possible. Besides, you do like watching her make these videos on rare occasions. Perhaps more often than not, but you'd never admit that out loud. It's as you lay there reclined on the shady mattress this portal to hell of a university provides, the one you're not sure if you should question the origins of, that the urge to regress into patterns possesses you in the worst possible way.
You want to eat her alive. The cliche in that statement nearly makes you gag at how predictable it is, but it is so close to the damn truth it may as well be. You're just watching her, the little ball of half innocence, curiosity and sunshine excitedly rambling about the Alchemy Clubs latest, and surprisingly casualty free, screw up. This one you think involved floating black masses that hummed, but you honestly can just barely make out what she's saying. Not with how sweet her voice is, how caught up you are by every little motion she makes with her hands, the steady sound of her heart beating with the occasional jump of unreleased adrenaline coursing through her, or just how uncomfortably adorable she is just by existing in the tiny space of your dorm room. It would be sappy and romantic, if you weren't pondering all the ways you could get that heart rate to jump, or just how cute she'd be squirming desperately against your bed while you left every bite mark you knew of just to show her how you really are, she did say you needed to open up more often, didn't she?
" I mean, once you get used to how creepy random holes where light don't exist are, the humming is actually kinda nice! I'm pretty sure the glee club was trying to sing along to it at one point, but that was more terrifying than helpful, I think. " She's making one of her trademark Laura Hollis faces, and it's so adorable you feel your insides melt. You never thought disturbed wonder could be so fucking gorgeous, but here you are, pining over a naive girl who finds amazement in her world being quite literally torn apart by lack wits with horrible control on their experimentations. " I would be out there trying to figure this out, but we were put on lockdown after the holes started to get bigger, LaFontaine is supposed to text me when they know more, but so far all they've sent is a vaguely worrying message about one of the glee club members trying to protect the gaps in reality. " It's shortly after this sentence that she finally feels your eyes burning holes into her body, and when she turns to face you, your thoughts become far worse. "Carm?"
You swallow harshly, taking in more of her. It is as though your senses are being assaulted by everything about her, and you can't place why it would be happening now. It is just another mundane possible apocalypse ridden day, so why is it that making eye contact with her pushes your need to cycle, to make those eyes shine and plead. If you were ever honest with yourself, you'd admit that you almost never truly know what it is about Laura that sends you off kilter. So far everything about her had caught you off guard and left you insatiable emotionally, mentally, and now, quite suddenly you might add, physically. She's looking at you with that beautiful concern that seems to radiate off of her when you don't answer her questions, or whenever you start to get distant. You want to wipe that emotion from her memory, create beautiful empty sensory overridden spaces like the ones etched into your head. The things you could do to her that would make her forget every little trace of worry, anxiety, and any idea that you did it for anyone but her. God, you literally do everything for her.
" Carm, are you okay? Did you have blood today, oh god, do you have enough blood for the lockdown? If you don't I'm sure LaF will get you some and..." Her words fade out again, but you feel your head tilt and the predatory gaze you've perfected over the years falls onto your face, you have no idea how you do it, but know what it feels like. You know the weight of it, the pressure of what it was made for, and you can feel it. Her words trail off in a way reminiscent to your first kiss, and you catch the flutter of her heart against her throat, in her head. In your head. You reach forward slowly, smoothly, the gaps in your memory filling with light. Don't scare your prey, you won't get to devour your dessert if you don't savor your dinner. You realize the implications of the metaphor in reference to your status as a member of the undead, but you certainly can't bring yourself to care as you drag her chair slowly towards you and the scent of Vanilla hits you. Vanilla, cookies, cocoa and most of all home. She is home, and you have never known a home, but you have known whimpers and desperate glances and lust that burned holes in your memory. You're not confident about feelings, you're not sure you ever will be, but you're confident about the way her pupils blow out like the holes ravaging the campus below, at the catch of her breath in her throat and the way she swallows like she's bitten off more than she can chew.
" Shh. " It's all you can manage in this state, because you swear if she keeps talking you're going to explode from the sound of her voice. She's the match and you're dynamite, and you're more than certain she won't be able to put out the wick this time. You're not even sure you have full control as you reach out and trace her face with your fingertips alone, lightly tracing the stunning contours of her face, feeling the burning velvet of her cheeks, watching the way her eyes try desperately to search yours as though they'll have the key to your actions. They don't, you know that for a fact, for you don't even have these answers, and even if you did you certainly don't have the padlock on hand. There's heat burning through your body, radiating with the pulse you know you shouldn't have, and you scrape your nails so lightly over her neck that she gasps, and you trail them right back up to her beautiful face. Over and over, caress, scratch, and scoot a little closer to the girl who has made these memories come full force and empty. Make her want from you until it's unbearable, even if only for just the soft press of lips.
She's leaning towards you, eyes giving into the weight of tension that has existed within you both for as long as you can recall knowing her and fluttering closed. Her lips look so soft, and you remember them being like the softest silk you've ever known, warm and delicate and so unbelievably addicting. You trail your nails lower this time, along the line of her shoulder, and lightly down her arm. It's amazing how easily she shudders, amazing how much control she hands over to you without realization, amazing just how easy it is to cycle with her. Yet, as she nears you, you withdraw slightly, trailing those ever present nails over her tender palm to the fluttering yet heavy pulse at her wrist and up her forearm. Her eyes open slowly, heavily, like she's intoxicated by your stare, and the confirmation is there that you definitely still have it in you. What "it" is, you're not entirely sure, but you definitely are the master. She tries to kiss you again, mouth seeking your own like they were destined for just that, and you can't help but smirk, seeking the sensitive spots you've found on her so far with the tips of your fingers. You make a map in your head, one to be memorized by being burned out by the fire that consumes your mind, of all the spots. The point where her shoulder and throat meet, a good portion of her right shoulder, her palms, that little pulse point in her wrist. You commit every nearly inaudible breathy noise to those wonderful gaping areas in your heart and mind.
" I want to kiss you. " It is certainly the most direct thing she had said to you regarding her desires towards you, and you can't help but let a smile creep onto your face. You have the urge to taunt her, to let her know that you can tell just how much this little staring contest you're having is doing for her, but that's not how you play this game. You know how to play this game and you're not about to break the solidly imaginary rules to it. The rules don't say anything about not complying on occasion though, so you shift just that little bit closer and thread your fingers through her vaguely brunette locks, scraping her scalp just a bit and watching her teeth dig lightly into her bottom lip. Yet another spot on your half thought out mapping system. You hear the faint sounds of the wheels on her chair rolling softly against the floor as she gets as close as possible. You lean in with a calculated movement, lightly pecking at the soft expanse of her cheek, and leaning your forehead against hers, waiting for your sweet little human to take what she asked for and dragging your nails through her hair once again.
She leans up suddenly, pressing her lips into yours like she needs it in order to breathe, and you know in that moment that your habits were worth collapsing into. So you respond with slow, languid, dominating motions. Finally taking her face in your hand a little more firmly, you press her deep into her chair, holding it in place with your feet. She tries desperately to speed up the process, but quickly realizes rule number one in your little game, control is yours until you freely give it up, and so she lets you take hers. Perhaps that is the best of it all, this little feisty human who fights so bravely and stubbornly rushes head first into danger is giving you control. She is letting you set the pace for how this works, how this is going to go. So, you take your time with her, exploring her mouth with your tongue in deep searching strokes, feeling the tentative attempt at the same idea from her end. Cute little gasps soon turn into soft moans, and a mouth falling more slack in your grip, so you let your hands explore the little spots you found earlier, gleefully taking in those sweet sounds coming from her sweet little mouth even as you pant against it. You bite her bottom lip lightly, once, twice, before soothing it with gentle sucks and loving strokes of your tongue. You kiss her until your lips ache and your body does too, and soon her hands are desperately seeking you out, trying to get just a little closer, just wanting to feel you. Craving you. Giving you exactly what you wanted out of this.
You feel like you've been kissing her for eternity, a part of eternity you would actually be okay with living, when you withdraw with aching lips to observe how beautifully disheveled you've made her with barely anything. Her eyes are glazed over, pupils so large they seemed to have swallowed her irises, her breathing is heavy, needy, and you can't help but want to make it so much harder for her to breathe. So you pull her to sit next to you on the bed, watching the way she all but scrambles to accommodate the location change, and you pull her back to you, kissing far more hungrily than before, and deciding to explore new areas on the body you plan to ravage until the whole dorm building can hear her being yours. So you seek more tender spots. You run your hands over her waist, feeling the sharp intake of breath when you hit the area right below her rib cage, and you grin, trailing your lips over to her jaw and dragging teeth softly there before finding her ear and you can't help yourself anymore. " I am going to find every sweet spot on you, cupcake, and I am going to send you into absolute overload, got it?" You whisper it with sugar and roughness laced heavily in your voice, and the desperate moan you get in response is encouraging to say the least. So you drop your head slightly, pressing slightly sloppy open mouthed kisses to her beautiful throat, feeling her pulse pounding underneath your tongue and the vibration of her damn near musical sounds. You can't help but press your face just a little closer, breathing in the all but intoxicating scent of her blood rushing through her body, nuzzling and trying your hardest not to purr against her.
Sometimes, when you're with her, you almost forget that you're a monster. You can almost push aside the need to drain people just to keep yourself alive. She makes you feel so normal sometimes, like having your teeth dragging on her throat isn't the absolute worst idea to be possible devised. She trusts you far too much sometimes, and right now that is driving you insane, like it's consuming your every thought. They usually trust you, at least, you think they might? It's fuzzy, disjointed, lost in arching backs and begging whispers and burning lines running down your back. They all blur together, to the point that you can't remember who is who. You remember them with shocking clarity sometimes and it gives you anxiety attacks, so having them be a distant shattered dream of sex and deceit works better for you. Especially when Laura is different, everything with Laura is different, and yet you want so badly to sink your fangs into that lovely strong neck and have her lose herself completely in you. Your vampirism telling you to take and take and take. You can't do that though, not when she's saying your name like a prayer between pants as you leave deep red marks all over her throat, sucking and biting with all too human bones in your mouth. Her hand finds its way into your hair, pulling you closer, and you breathe her in because when you're with her it's almost like you were never a monster to begin with.
She's moving suddenly, climbing into your lap to rest on you, wrapping her arms about you and getting you as close as she can, like she wants to melt into you. You're winning, she's letting you win, my god why is she letting you win so easily? By this point, she jolts with every soft press of your lips to the crook of her shoulder, to every brush against that sensitive little spot on the left side of her waist, her eyes are heavily hooded and she's seeking out your mouth to let you claim it again and again. You have to pull back for a moment just to watch her because she is just too damn beautiful like this, and you can't even imagine how you'll handle it when you finally just take her.
You suppose you must be staring at her for more than a few seconds, because she shifts shyly and starts to mutter, " Carm, why are you looking at me like that? " , and it sounds so innocent and tense that you can't help but laugh just a bit. Your relationship thus far had been full of slow paced kisses and hands that stayed firmly rooted on beds, on hair, or just barely underneath the backs of shirts, so you can understand the confusion painted across her features. Yet, just as with her claim of you not dying just for her, you swoop in and kiss her, hoping to wash away her insecurities with the gentle stroking of lips and soft noises of approval. It always seems to work and soon she is melting back into you as you drag your hand fully underneath her shirt and on to burning skin. The strangled noise that claws its way from the back of her throat sends a throb between your thighs, just as all her little adorable noises have been, and you realize that the masochist side of you must be showing if you haven't ripped her clothing off of her yet. In another time, you probably would have, just simply torn her clothing off and devoured every inch of her, but this is Laura. This is your little cutie and you want to spoil her with attention, even if you're not one hundred percent sure you are actually in control of your body at all. She's gasping against you, trying desperately to close an imaginary space between you as you bring your claws the length down the side of her breast to her hips. It occurs to you in this moment that for a hyper nineteen year old, she has extraordinary patience. Yet another surprise little miss Lauranica Mars has given you, and one you'd love to test the extent of. One you'd love to keep in your mind always, if you only could. Any other teenager would be grinding desperately against your lap by now, begging for something, anything. You should know, you've had so many of them, or at least you think you have. Potentially? You really have no idea anymore. You think you remember a girl with flaming red hair and brown eyes, (maybe they were green? Hazel?) desperately trying to ride your thigh while you teased her breasts with bites and kisses, whimpering whatever ridiculous anagram you had at the time into your ear in a broken plea for you to hurry up, to take what it was you wanted from her. She wasn't very successful though, as you had held her hips nearly still. You've always been the one to decide the pace. Always.
The faint memory strikes your self control heavily, and you find yourself dragging your fingers over the front of one of her cute little button ups, popping the buttons open one by one with practiced ease. You've pulled back to carefully watch her reaction, to make sure she isn't panicking or backing out, and her eyes are filled with desire so thick it sparks out of her like tiny explosions and the barest hint of self consciousness. You smooth the shirt over her shoulders, and hear it hit the floor with a soft noise that you can barely make out over the drum stuck in your girlfriend's chest. The flush that has washed its way over her cheek somehow darkens even more, and she looks at the bed nervously, picking at the edge of your top. You grab her chin, and make her look into your eyes, you let her turn her head on her own, letting her choose the pace for the briefest of moments. " Laura," your voice is low and thick, dripping with sex and adoration, " Laura, you are absolutely stunning, okay? The prettiest girl I've ever had. So please stop looking like you're expecting me to laugh at you. Prettier than any star in the void we call our sky. " You are entirely aware how sappy the sentence is, but it flows from your lips so easily and the smile you get in return is more than enough to make up for the embarrassment. She opens her mouth to say what you're sure would be an hour long rambling session, but seems to change her mind last second, mouth shutting suddenly. Then she is leaning in again, pressing heavy kisses against your mouth, trying to claim you as much as you have been claiming her, and you can't help but let her for a moment.
It soon becomes a struggle between you, her less experienced mouth trying to claim and take when she isn't even sure how to do either of those things, while yours leads her along. Every now and then you get a mouthful of teeth from how dominant she is trying to be, but you both simply giggle it off and continue. Her hands are exploring now, fingers digging softly into your back and head tilting down, something you never thought she'd have to do to kiss you, mouth becoming more desperate the longer you drag this out. When you finally give her solid contact, a hand slipping under her adorable pink bra that you had to force yourself not to giggle at, she seems to snap out of her trance for a moment.
" Wait, we need to like... We need to talk about this. " You figure there was some inevitability to her putting a halt to this. She always did love to ramble, and you really haven't gone much farther than kissing, but you can't help but pinch her nipple softly as you pull your hand away, causing a deep shudder to run up the other girl's spine.
" So talk away, Creampuff. " The nickname rolls off your tongue with ease, trying to sound nonchalant despite how much you want to dive right back into her.
" We've never done anything like this before, and I know you're really old fashioned about everything else in our relationship, so I thought that maybe we should discuss this? " She looks shy all of a sudden, even smaller than she usually does, and it is almost off putting. " I mean, don't get me wrong, I want this. Like, I really want this. 'Cause you know, you're gorgeous and really good at what you're doing and I just want to make sure it's really okay because of how you are and..." She continues rambling as you raise an eyebrow. Laura is the only woman you know who could possibly be asking if you're okay with things when you are the one who has been attacking her, been the only one that ever bothered to ask now that you think about it, and you can't help but smile at her. It really is endearing, the way she treats you.
" Laura, Laura, Laura. " You say it quickly, catching her off guard and stopping her mid rant about the pros and cons of you going any further with this. " I want this, okay? If you're not ready though, everything stops, yeah? " You know she only rambles like this when she is nervous and you run your fingers through her hair in what you hope is a soothing manner, you've never been so great at the comforting thing. It seems to work though, and soon she is leaning into your touch, humming softly at the pleasant feeling of the steady motions. " I want you. " Her eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. Her eyes remind you of molten pools of chocolate, of earth and forests and a barrage of other nature symmetries. You lean close again, an arm wrapping about her waist so gently, like she might break in half if you put any pressure on her delicate curves. " I can see it you know, the insecurity. I want you. I want you underneath me," you press a kiss to her jaw, " I want to watch you fall apart underneath my hands, to know what it takes to piece you back together. " You trail kisses over to her ear, breathing softly in it and eliciting tremors from her, " I want to know what you sound like when you're in ecstasy, how those cute little faces you make change in time with my hips rocking into yours" She lets out a trembling breath, slow and forced, " I want to feel your fingers in my hair as I devour you, your nails in my back as I love you... " Her heart is beating so fast at this point that you think it may explode, and while that concerns you it is hard to focus when her timid little mouth has found its way to your throat, pressing light kisses against it until she gains the confidence to suck softly at the base of your jaw, causing a deep gasp.
" I want this. " It's a single statement, filled with certainty that you weren't expecting to be present so soon. You allow a few minutes of the tender exploration before flipping her from your lap onto the bed, laying on her stomach and gasping in confusion. You straddle her lower back. " Carm, what are you..." She trails off as you press open mouthed kisses along her spine, leaving little marks all over her back, and dragging your nails over the backs of her legs as you lift up. She proceeds to grind her hips into the bed. The grin that adorns your face is certainly wicked, you finally have her exactly where you want her. So you press a knee slowly between her thighs, making her gasp brokenly into the pillow she must have grasped for when you turned her over, and arching desperately to meet your thigh. " Oh my god. " The little exclamation makes you press your knee just a little deeper into the bed, leaning over her until your arms rest on either side of you, and you grind your hips against her ass so smoothly that it surprises even yourself. You haven't really taken the time to actually tease in a while, so you're a bit shocked at how easily it comes back. She lets out a tiny plea in the form of your name, groaning as you continually move your thigh into the aching heat between her thighs. God, you can feel it radiating through her pants so clearly.
You take the opportunity to remove her bra before whispering to her that you're going to turn her over now, which she gladly obliges to when you instantly capture her in a kiss. She clings to you, returning every gesture with fervor, until your hand finds her breast again, rolling a nipple gently between your fingers. She breaks away and arches into your hand, and you pull softly at it. Her eyes are closed tightly, lip brought between her teeth and hips arching to try to gain contact in any way she can, and it makes your heart throb at just how much she wants you, and how absolutely adorable the scrunched up little impatient face she makes is. You lean down finally, giving into the urge that's been settled in your stomach this entire time, and begin kissing a line down her body, biting and suckling on every spot you can until you reach her breast, leaving loving kisses all but where she wants it, where you want it. You tease the other side with little pinches, rolling motions, and light tugs that leave her gasping, using your other hand to hike her right leg up around your waist, massaging the sensitive spot you found on the back of her thigh the entire time, feeling the way she writhes to get closer to you. Every little pant she emits has a tiny whimper or moan attached to it, and occasionally you believe you hear a choked, " Please, Carm, please ".
" Are you quite alright, cupcake? " You can hear just how deep your voice has gotten from blatantly ignoring the throb between your legs, and you know she notices too because her eyes dilate just a little bit more. She opens her mouth like she's going to speak but groans instead as you run your hands from that spot on her thigh to her inner thigh. She nods so fast you worry she might give herself a concussion without actually hitting anything and you take her in one more time; hair a messy halo hovering about her, eyes dilated to a point that you can barely see her iris, flushed cheeks and heaving chest, soft breasts rising and falling with every short pant. It's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and you lower your head to capture her nipple in your mouth, running your tongue softly around it before sucking softly and giving a light nip. Her voice reaches an octave you've yet to hear from her, and her hands bury in your hair, so you take the incentive to repeat the process. You keep the movements steady for a few minutes, occasionally lashing your tongue out across or biting just a little harder to catch her off guard and feel her hips seek yours out. At some point you had grabbed her hip, using the position of her leg to grind your own hips down into her, and cause the most delicious sighs and gasps you've ever heard. Every sound she makes competes for favorite, and damned if you could choose just one.
" Carm, please! " This one you certainly hear, and you raise away from her cute perky chest with a soft plop, eyes falling on the girl who now has an arm thrown over her eyes and one desperately clinging to your shoulder. " Want more, I want more, please. " You're honestly amazed you didn't even have to ask her to beg, and reach a shaking hand down to the button of her jeans. You've done this so many times that the shaking confuses you, how easily you're giving her what she wants is confusing you.
" This okay, cutie? " You already have her jeans open and it takes you a moment to process that you even spoke, but she's nodding at you with heavily lidded eyes and a languid smile that could put you to shame, and you slowly drag the zipper down with your teeth, grabbing the edges of her pants and peeling them slowly off her surprisingly incredibly toned legs. She makes a noise in the back of her throat like a protest and you glance up nervously, thinking perhaps you missed a step in your little game.
" You've got all your clothes on. " It comes out like a complaint, and she pouts at you and you really can't get over how much she looks like a little puppy begging for a treat, so you stand up slowly, removing your shirt and bra in a swift motion, but taking your sweet time in removing the leather pants you've noticed she adores oh so much. Her eyes bug out slightly, trying to catch every little inch of skin you reveal as you take them off, and you chuckle warmly at her. Once an entirely too tightly wound provincial girl, always an entirely too tightly wound provincial girl. You shiver under the chill of the room, but her eyes warm you more than enough to keep the thought away. " Wow. You're.. Wow. " Words weren't always her strong suit, and you can't imagine seeing her girlfriend nearly naked helps, so you simply slink back onto the bed in a fashion in which you are used to, lurking like the jungle cat you have become.
You're hovering over pelvis, leaving light kisses all over her hips, the line of her panties, the tender insides of her thighs which have become soaked with the sweetest arousal you've ever tasted. Your hand finds the front of her underwear and runs the backs of your fingers along the thoroughly destroyed material, her hips bounce forward to meet them, and you pull back until they're just barely skimming again. She whines in frustration, but plays along with your ridiculous need to tease. After a few long moments of tormenting her, you draw her underwear down her legs with one last confirmation, and find yourself once again in complete awe that this girl is yours, that this ridiculously headstrong little feminist agreed to being with you, and the words fall from your lips before you can stop it. " I love you so fucking much. " Your heart freezes in fear for a moment, and she seems relatively shocked. You go to apologize, to run away, this is not how this goes, at least you don't think it ever did.
" You love me? I... I love you too, but you know that, right? I mean, you totally know that? " You didn't but you had guessed, and the urge to be a romantic vampire cliche strikes you, but you instead descend upon her, wrapping arms about strong thighs and spreading them with help from the tiny human. You blow lightly on her glistening folds, loving the way she shudders and tries to get closer to your mouth. You get a little closer, running the tip of your tongue along the edges of her folds teasingly, stroking the outline with slow surety. She's shaking hard against you, and you suck the outer part of her labia softly, pushing lightly against it with your tongue. She starts to gasp, hands shooting to your hair. " Carmilla. " The absolute need that seeps off your name pushes you over the edge of control, and you can't keep teasing her. You can't wait any longer to see what she's like. So you dive your tongue into utterly molten lips and moan out hungrily and just how soaked she is for you. Her hand tightens in your hair almost to the point of pain as you drag your tongue through her again and again, loving the way she rocks into your face. You find her clit with ease and suck it softly into your mouth, just barely scraping your teeth over it and enjoying the little spasms of her hips. " Carm, I, oh god, oh fuck. " You've never heard her blatantly swear before, and the instance shocks you, but you simply increase your pace. You find a pattern with your tongue, tracing your name across her clit and doing little drawings, she's absolutely shuddering now, shamelessly rubbing into your face.
" Shh. " You admonish softly as her moaning starts to get out of control, your fingers finding their way to her entrance and teasing it. You push just barely in before pulling out, trace the outline, feel her cute little pussy try desperately to pull your fingers in deeper whenever you dip them into the entrance. She's trying to angle her hips to push down onto you, and her moans are reaching the levels of near screams that your neighbors certainly must be able to hear. When you push a finger into her, you swear she nearly seizes in an attempt to buck her hips. You let out another gentle shushing noise and push another digit inside her, loving the way she flutters around them. You find a steady but decently fast pace to thrust into her at, and she's babbling nonsense words above you about how badly she doesn't want you to stop. When you press just so on her pelvis and curl your fingers upward, you're not even entirely sure if you can understand the language she's speaking but you get the message; do not stop. So you finally take her clit back in your mouth, teasing it viciously while you speed up your thrusts, until you're pounding into her and she's squirming so roughly you can barely keep your mouth on her.
" More, more, fuck please more. " It comes out so rushed you barely catch it, but you oblige and slide another digit inside her, slowing slightly until she adjusts the the size and then returning to your unforgiving pace. " Carm, fu... Fuck. Feels like fire. I feel like I'm on fire. " Her voice shakes, and you're surprised she can even speak, but you take the cue, along with that of her clenching inner muscles, and curl your fingers again and again, scraping that little spot inside her as her hips try to keep up with what is quickly becoming a vampiric pace. When she finally falls over the edge about a minute and a half later, it is so hard that you're shocked she doesn't pass out. Her hips arch sharply, mouth opening in an incoherent scream that you think you may have caught your name in, and everything in your mind is burning. Burning like gaps in reality, like the things you don't think you'll be able to remember in the morning. Her voice becomes an anchor as she murmurs something like I love you over and over, before sleepily curling into your side and letting you hold her closely. This is also the first time you have actually stuck around after.
The next morning, when you awake, you realize with sudden sharpness something that only Laura could ever manage to do for you.
You remember every second and none of it burns.