Cecil knew all the right things to say and the right places to touch to get Eli revving (though that particular task wasn't hard for anyone. Eli wasn't surprised by this; she would have expected no less from a lust siblings. They, she had decided a few decades back, were almost always the best sexual partners.
"I was hoping you'd say that," she tittered as he changed their position. Never more clear than in these moments, Eli liked dominant people. She liked feeling their weight on her, pressing her down. She liked the way they spoke, always so confident and commanding. Best of all, though, Eliana loved how rough they could be. There was a passion dominance, unique only to it and Eli loved to feed on the heat of it. Nothing made her cheeks rosier or body looser.
It felt like her skin rose to meet his touch. Certainly her nipples did, having hardened in arousal at that point. But Eliana, too, was arching to get closer to him. She was placing messy kisses along his face and move in any way she could have as much skin contact with him as possible. If she could, she'd have molded with him, drank up his entire essence. It was not the first or last time Eliana would feel that about someone. It was common for her.
She was so in the moment, following its curve where it might take her, that she almost missed Cecil when he spoke. Hell, the only reason she had regained any of her focus was because Cecil broke contact to get her clothing off.
Now, Eli wasn't hard to get off in any respect. Her orgasms came frequent and rough. She wasn't as used to getting pleasured (not to say she hadn't, but most people were selfish in bed) as she was to pleasuring others. And she was fine with that. She got something out of it. A deep seeded enjoyment.
Eliana's head rested back as her lips parted in a moan. If her body had been aching to close the distance between them before, it needed to right then. She writhed under his touch, her enjoyment or oncoming climax no secret.