Moiraine is dying, she’s sure of it. Siuan is sucking her off like her life depends on it. It’s more than just the act of it, it’s the sloppy enthusiasm. Moiraine is dripping soaking the sheets below but Siuan is chasing her as if Moiraine could ever run from her. She presses into her so insistently Moiraine is sure she will disappear if Siuan doesn’t find what she’s looking for so closely between her legs.
It’s uncoordinated and sporadic but Moiraine eats it up tucked uncomfortably against the headboard craning down at her. She thinks maybe Siuan is right and there is some form of nirvana, heaven, penance, whatever in her but it’s thrown out the window when Siuan sucks her clit a little too hard. Her knees knock against each other squeezing and sliding Siuan’s head as a pitiful wheeze pushes past her lips. Her abdominals crunch pitifully with pleasure and she wants to cry.
She can feel Siuan's fingers digging into her hip bones, they’re warm, slicked with sweat and Moiraine as they rub her skin. It’s a stark contrast to the urgency of her mouth, her fingers are run curiously over the planes of her stomach. Moiraine can feel her restraint and grip strung like a taut bow. Siuan’s caught between clawing down the side of her stomach and caressing her. It’s a push and pull that has no victory.
Moiraine strains her ears for Siuan. She wants to hear her quiver and shake. She wants to hear the shallow intake through her nose. She wants to hear her desperately in an unfamiliar way. A Siuan that loves her so intensely she carves a new Siuan to embrace her.
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