<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/dc/Arouj.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong> Arouj al-Qadir (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.msg6401727#msg6401727)<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Port Diablo<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> English, Arabic<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Mary<br/></div><br/><br/><strong>Content: M/F, breath control</strong><br/><br/>God was truly great to have delivered such a snug little quim into his hands. That was his last conscious thought for at least a dozen deep thrusts, each one more fine and hot and wet than the last as her body learned what it was meant to accommodate. With each stroke he pulled her back to meet him, pulled her entire body back by his grip on her throat, as if holding the narrow end of a pretty sheath for a sword.<br/><br/>The square was so blessedly peaceful... only the sounds of water, the slapping of skin on skin, and Mary's faint struggle for breath. Other people and voices seemed quite far away. Arouj closed his eyes and bared his teeth in a primal smile. Harder. His knees bent to angle his force up into the girl, lifting her onto her toes with each collision of flesh. Her hips moved with him, wanted to meet him. So full of lust. A born slave.<br/><br/>He drove home once more with a snarl and held them both still, his heart beating faster already. Fingers relaxed on her windpipe for a second or two but his hand didn't leave her aching throat.