Work Text:
Leather is awful.
A terrible, no good, very bad fabric. Leather constricts as if that is the only job it could have, and Asra hates constricting fabrics. He avoids them every chance he gets, but Nadia doesn’t care. She doesn’t care how much he pouts, whines, or sweats, she’ll put him in a leather corset with every other outfit she commissions him. Asra grumbles and complains, but he also relents since Nadia has an unparalleled eye for these things.
Fuchsia silk is offset beautifully by the worn, clay-brown of the thick belt around his waist. He looks quite delectable, and the way Nadia appreciates that soothes his discomfort. It doesn’t matter since he isn’t really uncomfortable at this moment. He’s forgotten to play up how much he hates the corset since it isn’t a full corset, and definitely not as cinched as Nadia often keeps him. This isn’t a formal event, and Nadia is here for the look of it more than the wear.
“Nadia,” the name is breathless with the way Nadia fucks into him.
The breath leaves in a lush moan when she bottoms out, pelvis warm and flushed to his ass. Her hand dents the pillow next to Asra’s head, and he turns to gentle a sloppy kiss to the bone of her wrist despite himself. He’s not able to focus on anything more than where they touch. Dizzy fog encroaches on his mind as she leaves him fucked out under her. She pistons her hips fast while her other hand curls three fingers into his dripping cunt.
Asra clenches up hard around her, and comes again. Somewhere in the distance he remembers that all the costuming is easy to put up with when it makes Nadia want him so thoroughly. It’s his favorite to be under her like this. Full of her, dressed by her, basking in her. She owns him utterly in these moments.
Her hips stutter, the curve of the strap-on grinding into her cunt. With one last rock she is following him over the precipice. She keeps humping into him, even as he jostles harsh against her in the throes of his pleasure.