Thinking was dregs somewhere at the bottom of that cup she’d intoxicated him with. She was pulling the uniform tunic off above his lolling head. It was only a matter of time before Morgana would relapse into her tried and true methods with him. She grabbed his waist and spun him. Slamming Eli to the nearest wall, pressing his cheek on it, her hands groped him from behind outrecuidantly. A raft pleasure crawled everywhere.

“You liked it when I played rough. Shall we test the mileage of that confession?”

“You’re avoiding the parts I like having played with,” he said tightly.

Her fingers fanned out over his lower back, then her hand slithered on his side, rounding his hip until her palm flattened against his stomach. Morgana swiped at his tummy, feeling up the taut muscles there, the tivy flutter of his breath.

“Better?” she murmured, her lips susurrating against the nape of his neck.

“Much,” he said, voice smothered by the duvet. He mumbled a curse, yet simultaneously he arched his back slightly so that his stomach pressed widely into her hand. “But I want more.”

While she rubbed his abdomen, she dipped into the hollow of his navel sparingly, then skated up to his ribs. With the glide feathering higher, her thumb brushed over one of his nipples. It hardened briefly under the casual breeze of contact, appointing a lancinating little sensation.

“Tickles,” he gasped softly. “Try not to—”

“Bad?” Her voice held a hint of sultry heat that thawed his apprehensions. “You asked for more. Should I stop if it’s so bad?”

“No, not that bad.” Eli shivered starkly. Her touch was a deed that held no lamentation at all, only a benign and tactile curiosity that made him feel profoundly wanted. It was distracting him from the fact that his cock kept getting fuller, leaking dollops of slick into his pants.

Morgana’s thumb rubbed back and forth over his nipple until it was a proper, tight peak, making him spill a little drool lopsidedly. He tried sucking it up, but made too much noise he wasn’t proud of making. “You like that.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I like it when you touch me after I beg you to. Crazy, I know.”

“You don’t have to beg. All you have to do is listen,” Morgana told him. She allowed him to distance himself from the mashing against the wall. Eli felt liquid. He couldn’t have done a thing if he tried, scaffolding himself just about in order not to completely lurch forward. Then his pants were doffed, his vision a twilight.

“I’ve been listening the entire time, ma’am,” he made his throat moil. “I’m not sure a lot of it sticks, though.”

“Scoop up.” She glanced at the bedding beside them. “Away from me, if it helps. Would it be easier not to see me, Eli?”

“Seeing you never gets easier,” he muttered, miffed. “Depends on what you want.”

“Mmm...”

“What is it?” Eli slid up.

Following suit, she perched alongside, her weight resounding in a dull dip around him like a crater as she crawled behind him. Her hands softened on his shoulders. Enacting herself elegantly, yet exigently.

“Kneel and sit on your heels, please.”

“Why are you asking so nicely suddenly?” Eli brooded, though conforming to her wish and tucking his legs under. His limbs didn’t feel like his own. “You don’t do that.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do at any given moment,” he said dryly, but then her glacial hands were plastered on him, fussing, making him jump upon the heightened intensity as the temperature seeped beneath his hot skin with languorous passage. “And I don’t know how to deal with it when you put on this—polite woman act.”

Morgana moored a hand in his hair and shoved him in the mattress face first. “Would you prefer the usual treatment?”

“Oh,” he uttered through shaking lips besottedly. He felt aroused, and to some extent humiliated. Just like that, Eli broke out in a grin. “Yeah, the usual is good.”

He didn’t know there was a usual between them, but if there was one, it would certainly not be a tender thing.

With a smooth slope, Morgana leaned on him, her breasts descending onto his back along with her slender upper body as it enveloped a portion of him. Its pacific wash of prodigious satiety fell over him. The subdued heartbeats gilded his own pulses in sync. A relieved sigh shuddered out of him.

“Do you think I should be punished for what I do to you?” She whispered, from behind his ear as she imposed on him. Its sonic was otherworldly.

“No, ma’am.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like what you do,” he declared gruffly.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, just shy of pain, instead granting pulls that made him shiver blissfully.

“Good boy.” Morgana pulled him back up on his knees, hugging around his middle, and promptly let go of his hair as she had him sit on his heels once more. Even so, he didn’t dare look behind his shoulder, but he felt her proximity doubly. Fleshy, like her voice could curdle his blood. “Means it’s working.”

He stayed like that. Oversexed and entirely euphoric. Mustering the courage, Eli furtively took the veiny shaft in his fist and gave himself a few strokes before pausing out of guilt, his breath lodged. His cock pined for attention. Stuck between two desires, he wanted to wait for her to put her hands on him, but also to pleasure himself knowing the experience was likely irreproducible. Her soothing wont to fondle him textured his desires entirely. She could have been more exalting and prurient, and he wouldn’t have complained.

Morgana brushed his hair fondly, watching as his hand twitched trying not to jerk off.

Then came up the hand that could still find purchase on him, making him whimper with his eyes shut as she placed it on his belly again. Fingertips swept along the trail of hair that led from his navel down to where his cock hardened, teasing the skin at the base where his thigh met his groin.

His mouth twitched when she stroked his thick cock suddenly, and the words came out wobbly. “F-Fuck ... Again, do that again.”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

Morgana repeated it exactly once, which earned a scoff from Eli.

“Be more sincere,” she chastized.

“You drugged me, it doesn’t get more sincere than this.”

“You think?” Morgana tightened her hand and squeezed his cock, fisting its head softly. His body melted incrementally under her attention.

The way her groping bestowed every sensation there was to know made him heady. Folly, hot and full, warmed his body, dazed his mind. This was the stillworth he’d craved. Maybe in truth, it was just her he’d craved, turning his cheeks to a fading scarlet of satisfaction, the craving muzzled without her.