[ Everything about it is just so right. Each affliction sparks through her body like electricity, pleasure pulsating through her more strongly like an aftershock. Already her hands are developing scrapes from the friction of her body fighting the force against the roughly textured stone - and there's a hiss, as her cheek scuffs, too - but the hunger, the ruthlessness, quickly overpowers any sense of self preservation that she has. She's drowning in pleasure, and she doesn't care to breathe.
Ah, but perhaps that is not the best analogy to make, as her lungs are clearly uninhibited, her near screams echoing through the empty air of the rooftops and carrying into the bustle of the city. ]
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Ah, but perhaps that is not the best analogy to make, as her lungs are clearly uninhibited, her near screams echoing through the empty air of the rooftops and carrying into the bustle of the city. ]