[Very sensitive. Exceptionally sensitive. Especially with how he's touching her. It's the difference between accidentally rubbing your breasts against someone's back when you pass by them and someone actively stroking them. The divide is entirely in her head, of course, but that doesn't change the truth of it.
Regina whimpers softly, pressing back against him, her lips parted on a moan of his name.
The soft strokes of his fingers over hers make electricity dance along her nerves. The press of his thumb against her palm makes her cry out, makes fire burn inside her. Her body clenches, leaving her feeling empty and so very needy. There's a faint glow to her skin - but it is faint, nothing like the way it was before the day of the dead.
She arches, twisting and gasping as his fingers play against her palm. Her mind conjures images of him inside her, made more real by the fact that he's hot against her back and the smell of his skin - leather and magic and fire - washes over her with each breath.
Another cry escapes her, and her free hand grabs at his arm under her head. Her body goes rigid as pleasure surges through her, a wild, electric current as she comes. The power that washes into him is no less than it has been in the past, but the feel of it is slightly different, as if she's tugging back on him as much as she's pushing into him, too. And through it, she presses back against him, gasping his name, keening it like a prayer.]
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Regina whimpers softly, pressing back against him, her lips parted on a moan of his name.
The soft strokes of his fingers over hers make electricity dance along her nerves. The press of his thumb against her palm makes her cry out, makes fire burn inside her. Her body clenches, leaving her feeling empty and so very needy. There's a faint glow to her skin - but it is faint, nothing like the way it was before the day of the dead.
She arches, twisting and gasping as his fingers play against her palm. Her mind conjures images of him inside her, made more real by the fact that he's hot against her back and the smell of his skin - leather and magic and fire - washes over her with each breath.
Another cry escapes her, and her free hand grabs at his arm under her head. Her body goes rigid as pleasure surges through her, a wild, electric current as she comes. The power that washes into him is no less than it has been in the past, but the feel of it is slightly different, as if she's tugging back on him as much as she's pushing into him, too. And through it, she presses back against him, gasping his name, keening it like a prayer.]