The waves of arousal coming off of Freelancer are enough to make Gavin shake. He smirks down at them, after a quick once-over to make sure their wrists aren't tied up to the bedpost too tightly. He's very experienced with this sort of thing, but you know... different strokes for different folks, and he's about to show his lover all kinds of strokes tonight.
"You know, usually, I'm the one tied up, so this is some fun role-reversal."
Freelancer's laugh quickly melts into a moan as Gavin grabs their thighs and tugs them apart, easing them onto his hips. "You're really taking this roleplay seriously, huh Princess Peach?" They try to sound teasing, but their voice just comes out breathy and coy.
Gavin chuckles lowly, "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear it over the sound of your neediness."
They let out a snort with a weirdly sexy roll of their eyes. "You little sh-ah!" The rest of their sentence is lost to the ether the moment Gavin grinds himself perfectly against their burning heat. "You-ngh-" Their breath is ripped from their throat at the repeated rhythmic motion of his dick right against where they needed him most.
"Yes? Are you trying to say something, deviant?" He hums smugly, though even his own voice is taking on a breathy quality. He can feel his mind fogging up, feel his face flushing and his loins burning with desire. And their arousal that ebbs and flows around them seeps into him, setting all his stars on fire.
...and their moans, he can feel them in his stomach, he can feel them on his skin like little kisses, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He watches as they writhe under him and try to reach up to kiss him. He chuckles, sultry, teasing. And then does the evil thing of shifting ever so slightly away, so that his perfect dick is hidden in the folds upon folds of his Princess Peach costume, and his plush lips are just an inch too far out of reach.
They groan... well, at least, they think they do. In reality, they whimper, as their hips buck up, only to be disappointed, meeting nothing but the synthetic pink ruffles. "Gavin-" he's quite sure that pout is subconscious. Cute.
"You sure you have nothing to say?" His fingers expertly weave their way past his skirts, and instantly find their way to the hotspot between their legs. At first, it's quick, light touches that make Freelancer glare at him playfully, while their eyes spark with all the tantalising plans of future payback. Then the touches morph into tapping, his fingers coat themselves in Freelancer's coveted essence. Then, his fingers escalate to rubbing.
Words basically don't exist to Freelancer at this point. Only moans, and groans, whimpers and whines. Any attempt to form coherent thoughts simply ended up in half-syllables tumbling past their lips and into a puddle on Gavin's thigh. Coyly, they bury their face in his chest. He feels them... they're so close. They're basically right on the edge.... and then he stops.
His coated fingers reappear and slide into his mouth. Freelancer's desperately indignant expression fades away to true and unbridled awe as they watch Gavin suck enthusiastically on his fingers, not missing the fact that some of their juices had ended up smudging on his lips in the process.
Gavin, the little shit, peers up at them sheepishly as if just realising they had been watching him. He doesn't keep up the act for long, though, smirking and winking at them... causing their breath to catch in their chest... before pulling away from his fingers with a wet smack of his lips.
God, they're going to be out for blood the moment they're released. His dick quivers in anticipation.
He tugs Freelancer's chin up, coaxing them to look at him. His heart swells, and his dick throbs deliciously. Their eyes are these dark, deep pools of all their wanton desires; the sinful wants of their soul have been bared to him, and now it's his duty to punish them as he sees fit. "Okay then, I have some words for you... I'm going to fuck you in this dress until you see stars."
Freelancer feels themself clench down around nothing. And that is pretty much the last straw. "Please," they whisper out. "Please fuck me."
After one painfully chaste kiss to the lips that he basically has to restrain himself from deepening, he whispers against their lips, "your wish is my command."
A princess must also serve her subjects after all 🩷
