[ The Citadel will take care of it. His Serah looks like a wood nymph, beautiful and captured from the trees themselves, laid out before him and crying out, moaning so loudly he's pretty sure some people heard. She's writhing, stroking herself in all the delicious ways, and Noctis bends over her, leaning down to kiss her mouth hard, less to silence her than to plunder her mouth, answering the way she begs.
He starts to thrust now, hard and fast without giving her time to get used to the rhythm -- it's obscene, loud slaps of their body against each other, wet and primal and free, and Noctis gently bats her hands aside to pinch her nipples, to tug and let it bounce back, watching her breasts bounce, too, with every hard, unrelenting thrust he affords her.
She will give him anything he wants, and he will take everything. ]
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He starts to thrust now, hard and fast without giving her time to get used to the rhythm -- it's obscene, loud slaps of their body against each other, wet and primal and free, and Noctis gently bats her hands aside to pinch her nipples, to tug and let it bounce back, watching her breasts bounce, too, with every hard, unrelenting thrust he affords her.
She will give him anything he wants, and he will take everything. ]