What followed was not quick, because Kaelira had never once rushed a piece she cared about.
The frantic edge burned off and she settled in, unhurried and rhythmic, learning him one slow pass at a time, and what replaced the massacre was far worse for him: a devoted, wet, thorough patience that was utterly unembarrassed by its own sounds, exactly as instructed.
*Mm... schlop... mmh~*
And she watched him the entire time. Big, happy, violet elven eyes stayed mashed into his and never once let go, shining up along his body with open delight at every hitch of breath she managed to cause, and Sera's most devastating technique turned out to require no technique at all when the eyes doing it meant everything they said.
