When she raised her face, her eyes locked onto his—bright, terrible, smiling.
Her lips glistened, pink and slick, as if soaked in nectar that belonged only to him.
She licked them slowly, erotically, the motion a silent promise before she dipped back down, swallowing him whole.
The cool-wet suction returned with force, wrenching a cry from his throat, raw and unbidden.
Lor clutched at the void floor, fingers grasping at nothing, knuckles whitening in the empty air.
His cock throbbed inside her impossible mouth, squeezed and stroked as if she were draining him on purpose, each pull of her tongue syncing with the frantic beat of his heart.
Her eyes never left his, that wicked smile gleaming through the haze, even as she sucked harder, faster, the wet sounds echoing in the dream's endless space.
Pleasure surged, sharp and hot, clashing with the cool phantom sensations, building a fever that had nowhere to go but forward.
