Elisandra's hand is no longer anywhere near her sex! It's amazing she can move that fast while in such a compromising position.

"Thought so." Her fingers fall from her amulet to dig into Eli's hair. 

Elisandra moans lowly into her wife's sex, and goes back to her work.

Thistle tenses, sighs, relaxes. She's quiet, but her gaze gets steadily more faraway as she's eaten out by her wife. 

Elisandra continues her ministrations, eagerly abasing herself at the altar of her wife's sex.

And eventually, Thistle lets out a long, satisfied sigh and rolls off her wife. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"...goddess I'm so fucking aroused I can't stand it please please please let me cum -"

"Shhhhh." Thistle presses a finger to her wife's lips. 

She shushes, trembling a little.

"Good girl. Up onto your knees for me."

Elisandra kneels on the hardwood floor for her wife.

Thistle comes in behind her, and rests one hand on her inner thigh and another on her side, just beneath her breast. She delicately takes the tip of Elisandra's ear between her teeth. 

Elisandra's heart hammers in her chest, her whole body trembling as she tries to stay steady in the stress position, but her wife is right there -

Thistle's right arm hugs her wife hard back against her, while her left slips in between her legs and spreads open her sex.

"Shhhhhh," she says. "If you make any noise, any noise at all, I'm going to stop. Understand?"

Elisandra just nods.

Thistle's fingers slip slowly into her wife, making a come-hither motion along the upper wall of her sex. She kisses at her neck, nibbling and biting, and pulls her in hard, naked flesh against shadowflesh.

Elisandra's breathing flutters and stalls, hitching unsteadily with every slow stroke of her wife's fingers. But she doesn't squeak or moan or even sigh. She just holds very very still in her wife's arms.

Thistle hastens her pace, her palm grinding against Elisandra's mons, her hot breath washing over her shoulder. "Such a good girl, such a very very good girl. So quiet and obedient..."

Elisandra covers her mouth with one hand and scrunches her eyes up tight and holds her wife's free hand and clings hard - 

And Thistle keeps stroking, harder, faster -

A strangled sigh escapes around the hand over Eli's mouth.

Thistle slows. "What was that, dear?"

Elisandra shakes her head, her eyes wide -