[ he almost laughs against the attempt at a bite to his lips, with that bump of teeth that doesn't make it all any less satisfying, especially when she gasps from the surprise of him ripping her underwear. it's something they could concern themselves with later, whereas right now it's all about the need to rid themselves of every possible layer, more satisfied to feel all bare skin everywhere they touch, from the soft press of her breasts to his chest when she kisses him, to the heat of her naked thighs trapping him down at his hips.
for a brief moment, he tries to chase her mouth on instinct, like a part of him isn't done with tasting her kisses, but her hands press him down, keeping him stationed against the mattress as she hovers above him. there's no protest from him then, captivated by the look of her, by her breathless mouth all pink and swollen from kisses, by the tuck of her hair that shows off the soft flush of her cheeks and the look of determination in her eyes, by the way she curves her body to position herself down against him.
her hands splay at his chest, over scars that aren't his own, save for a few of the fresher ones he's received in the recent months, some back on earth in bay city, and some in the fight at braccia. against her palm, his heart beats fast, a heart that isn't his but thumps with his own adrenaline, his own arousal, his own want of her in this very moment.
he tenses naturally when she starts to lower herself, when he feels the heat of her surround him, and his breath shakes but he exhales deeply when she tells him not to move. his hands are already sloped over her thighs, stroking at naked skin but he doesn't move otherwise. ]
Yeah. [ it's barely a word, more a hushed gruff breath, but it's cooperative and more than willing. he wants to hold her, cradle her close, find her lips, kiss her skin, make her moan — but he wants to watch her too, wants her to use him every way that she wants, and with the way she feels against his body, he doesn't care about anything else but this. ]
no subject
for a brief moment, he tries to chase her mouth on instinct, like a part of him isn't done with tasting her kisses, but her hands press him down, keeping him stationed against the mattress as she hovers above him. there's no protest from him then, captivated by the look of her, by her breathless mouth all pink and swollen from kisses, by the tuck of her hair that shows off the soft flush of her cheeks and the look of determination in her eyes, by the way she curves her body to position herself down against him.
her hands splay at his chest, over scars that aren't his own, save for a few of the fresher ones he's received in the recent months, some back on earth in bay city, and some in the fight at braccia. against her palm, his heart beats fast, a heart that isn't his but thumps with his own adrenaline, his own arousal, his own want of her in this very moment.
he tenses naturally when she starts to lower herself, when he feels the heat of her surround him, and his breath shakes but he exhales deeply when she tells him not to move. his hands are already sloped over her thighs, stroking at naked skin but he doesn't move otherwise. ]
Yeah. [ it's barely a word, more a hushed gruff breath, but it's cooperative and more than willing. he wants to hold her, cradle her close, find her lips, kiss her skin, make her moan — but he wants to watch her too, wants her to use him every way that she wants, and with the way she feels against his body, he doesn't care about anything else but this. ]