Camellya's crimson eyes glint in the dim glow of the abandoned hideout, the storm outside rattling the crumbling walls with a ferocity that mirrors the heat coiling in her core. Rain lashes against the cracked windows, a rhythmic patter-patter that syncs with the rapid beat of her heart. She stands over Rover, who kneels on the worn mattress they've dragged to the center of the room, his dark hair damp and clinging to his forehead. His golden eyes flicker with a mix of defiance and curiosity, his chest heaving from their earlier sparring. Camellya's lips curl into a predatory smile, her vine-like tendrils twitching at her sides, eager to bind, to claim.
"Rover," she purrs, her voice a low, sultry hum that cuts through the storm's roar. "You keep running, but you always end up here... with me." She steps closer, her hips swaying, the tight fabric of her outfit clinging to her curves, accentuating the swell of her breasts and the taut lines of her thighs. The air hums with her resonance, a faint vibration that makes Rover's skin prickle. She reaches out, her gloved fingers grazing his jaw, tilting his face up to meet her gaze. "Tell me, do you fight me because you hate me... or because you want this?"
Rover's breath hitches, his lips parting, but no words come. His silence is answer enough, and Camellya's smile widens. She leans down, her lips brushing his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. "Good boy," she whispers, her tongue flicking against his earlobe. "Let's see how much you can take." With a flick of her wrist, her tendrils snake forward, sleek and sinuous, wrapping around Rover's wrists and pinning them above his head. The vines pulse faintly, their texture both smooth and rough, a tease of sensation against his skin. He gasps, his body tensing, but there's no real struggle-only the subtle arch of his back, betraying his need.
Camellya straddles his lap, her thighs clamping around his hips, the heat of her pussy pressing against the growing bulge in his pants. She grinds down slowly, deliberately, savoring the way his cock strains against the fabric, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her core. "Fuck, you're already so hard," she murmurs, her voice dripping with delight. Her hands roam his chest, nails scraping lightly over his shirt, catching on his nipples through the thin material. Rover lets out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily, and Camellya chuckles, the sound dark and throaty. "Oh, you like that, don't you? My sweet, stubborn Rover..."
She tears his shirt open with a swift tug, buttons scattering across the mattress, exposing the lean planes of his chest. Her fingers trace the scars that crisscross his skin, each one a testament to his battles, his resilience. She leans down, her lips brushing one scar, then another, before her tongue darts out to lave at his nipple. Rover's moan is sharp, almost desperate, and his cock twitches against her thigh. "Mmm, so sensitive," she teases, nipping gently, then sucking hard, her teeth grazing the hardened bud. His body jerks, the vines tightening around his wrists, keeping him deliciously helpless.
Camellya's own arousal pools between her legs, her pussy slick and aching as she grinds harder against him. She reaches down, unfastening his pants with deft fingers, freeing his cock. It springs up, thick and throbbing, the head glistening with precum. "Fuck, look at this," she breathes, wrapping her hand around his shaft, her grip firm but teasing. She strokes him slowly, her thumb circling the sensitive tip, smearing his precum over the flushed head. Rover's hips thrust up, chasing her touch, and she laughs, low and wicked. "So eager... but you don't get to cum until I say so."
She shifts, sliding off his lap to kneel between his legs, her tendrils adjusting to keep his arms bound and his thighs spread. Her lips hover over his cock, her breath hot against the sensitive skin, making it twitch. "Let's see how you taste," she murmurs, before her tongue flicks out, lapping at the bead of precum. Rover groans, his head falling back, and Camellya takes him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth. She sucks greedily, her tongue swirling around the head, then sliding down to trace the veins along his shaft. The salty tang of him fills her senses, driving her wild, her own pussy clenching with need.
Her tendrils move again, one slipping beneath her own outfit to tease her dripping folds, the vine's tip circling her clit with agonizing precision. She moans around Rover's cock, the vibration making him buck into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. "Fuck, Camellya," he gasps, his voice raw, and she pulls back just enough to grin up at him, her lips slick and swollen. "That's it, say my name," she demands, before diving back down, taking him deeper, her throat constricting around him. Her vine fucks her pussy in time with her movements, the dual sensations pushing her closer to the edge.
Camellya releases him with a wet pop,
her chest heaving, her eyes blazing with hunger. She crawls back up his body, shedding her outfit in a fluid motion, revealing her flushed skin, her nipples hard and aching. She positions herself over his cock, the tip brushing her soaked entrance, and pauses, savoring the anticipation. "You're mine, Rover," she whispers, her voice fierce and possessive. Then she sinks down, taking him inch by inch, her pussy stretching around his thickness, the sensation so intense it steals her breath. "Oh, fuck, you're so deep," she moans, her hips rocking, his cock hitting her cervix with every thrust.
She rides him hard, her tits bouncing with each movement, her nails digging into his chest. Rover's moans fill the air, mingling with her own, the storm outside a distant roar compared to the tempest between them. Her tendrils tease his balls, curling around them, squeezing lightly, and he cries out, his body trembling. "Cum for me," she commands, her own climax building, her pussy clenching around him. With a final, desperate thrust, Rover obeys, his cock pulsing, hot cum flooding her insides. Camellya follows, her orgasm crashing over her, her scream echoing as her body shakes, her vines tightening around them both, binding them in this fleeting, perfect moment.