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Seraphim On High

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"Shh," Zoe murmurs, running her fingers along the tips of Iolanthe's wings. For an angel, she's awfully sensitive. Iolanthe moans into the pillow, knees bent under her and arse sticking into the air. So beautiful, and so vulnerable.

Iolanthe grabs at the sheets, bunches them in her fingers and tries not to move the rest of her body. "Fuck."

Zoe smiles and uses her left hand to rub circles over the small protrusions of bone where her wings connect with her shoulder blades. Iolanthe whines and groans, shivering beneath her as the air conditioner comes on as expected and quickly reduces the temperature in the room.

"Please." She's wet, throbbing, and starving. Iolanthe knows what it's like to be touched, but no one has ever taken it to this extreme. "Zoe—"

Zoe continues her ministrations until Iolanthe has to grip the bed head and fight her desires. "You've been a bad angel, Iolanthe."

"I know." This is her punishment for not keeping her hands to herself, for being unable to resist exploring the human body she now owns. Zoe told her to entertain herself with knitting but God help her, she couldn't resist. "I won't do it again."

"Such a beautiful seraphim," Zoe whispers, leaning close and pushing her hips forward so the strap-on rubs against Iolanthe. "Usually such a good girl."

Iolanthe moans when Zoe pushes inside her and fuck, the feeling of being stroked inside and out sends delicious sparks surging through her body. "Yes. Your good girl."