( she has adjusted to his sudden appearances. he might miss the amusement in how she would startle if he didn't enjoy her comfort in his presence more: the warmth of her body now, as it relaxes into him.
she smells sweet and tempting; vanilla and the must of books mixed with the musk of recent arousal. his heartbeat is already loud in his chest at the scent. he pulls back enough to sweep the hair from her neck with a longing sigh, and presses a soft, hungry kiss below her jaw. against her skin, he wonders aloud, ) How shall I indulge you today? ( his head tilts; he kisses behind her ear, too. )
[ there's such a sense of safety, him so solid behind her and his arm around her. she could lean all of her weight against him and not worry that he couldn't support her. couldn't hold her. while there's a thrill in him startling her and that spark of fear, she enjoys the comfort they share all that much more.
she tilts her head in the direction he moves her hair, offering her neck to him. the kiss makes her want to melt. one of her hands reaches to clutch at his, holding on. ] I don't think this can be indulged today. Or with just the two of us.
( his fingers lift to weave and curl with hers, an answer to her seeking touch. his palm smoothes a trail down from the fall of her satin hair down her arm, to tangle her other hand up in his. the simple intimacy from the touch of her hands against his shouldn't have him hard and wanting, and yet. he finds a soft patch of skin to nuzzle along the nape of her neck, his lashes low as he considers how he'd indulge himself with her, over and over.
it takes him a moment to process her words. his lips, brushing against her neck, pause. she has insatiable appetites; he is aware. that it is part of what he finds so irresistible about her cannot be understated.
he leans back, spinning her to face him, pulling her in with a hand at her wrist. ) Oh? What has that curious mind been up to?
[ every touch makes her skin buzz with life, like an errant spark of electricity is bouncing between the two of them. the simplest things matter so much—their hands touching, holding hands, his nose nuzzling along her neck. she loves moments like these just as much as every moment they share in bed. or against a wall. or on a kitchen countertop.
her spine curves, her hips pressing into his and her ass against his groin. the contact is light, almost tentative. a testing touch just to see. to explore. it ends quickly, though, as he spins her in place and pulls her flush against him.
cait hesitates at his question. it's one thing to talk about it in text; it's another to give it actual voice. while she can speak such filthy things into the world, sometimes asking for things she wants is tricky. ] I had a dream. You... and another man. At the same time.
( there are such small, affectionate things that have her heart quickening, her breath catching and shortening, and her skin heating. he is mesmerized by all of them, humbled and hungered by the beautiful symphony they create; that she is to his senses. the gentle press of her backside against his groin is a lovely tease, and he responds to it by taking firm hold of her, his fingers digging into the roundness of her bottom, and pulling her in close.
he is aroused, for her. needful, for her. she should know.
he rests her hand at his shoulder and begins the journey down her arm with the tips of his fingers. she has such delicate skin, always soft; thinning into the dip of her elbow. he follows a stark blue vein with both his touch and his gaze. were his fangs to slice her skin there, she would gasp and sound a little cry. he knows, because he remembers the experience fondly. a pair of heated, wicked eyes slide to hers.
not that he isn't listening as she finds voice for her desires; on the contrary. he's waiting patiently and listening intently as she finds the words.
the fantasy is hardly surprising. the specificity of it — you and another man — is what he finds intriguing. who else might feature in her dreams, he wonders? another lover? the smile teasing his lips lingers, but there is a dark calculation that joins it. a tinge of jealousy joining the possessiveness that simmers hot beneath his skin.
his touch rounds her shoulder and travels up her neck. ) And who was this other man? Were we sharing nicely?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
duplicitynet inbox
no subject
she smells sweet and tempting; vanilla and the must of books mixed with the musk of recent arousal. his heartbeat is already loud in his chest at the scent. he pulls back enough to sweep the hair from her neck with a longing sigh, and presses a soft, hungry kiss below her jaw. against her skin, he wonders aloud, ) How shall I indulge you today? ( his head tilts; he kisses behind her ear, too. )
no subject
she tilts her head in the direction he moves her hair, offering her neck to him. the kiss makes her want to melt. one of her hands reaches to clutch at his, holding on. ] I don't think this can be indulged today. Or with just the two of us.
no subject
it takes him a moment to process her words. his lips, brushing against her neck, pause. she has insatiable appetites; he is aware. that it is part of what he finds so irresistible about her cannot be understated.
he leans back, spinning her to face him, pulling her in with a hand at her wrist. ) Oh? What has that curious mind been up to?
no subject
her spine curves, her hips pressing into his and her ass against his groin. the contact is light, almost tentative. a testing touch just to see. to explore. it ends quickly, though, as he spins her in place and pulls her flush against him.
cait hesitates at his question. it's one thing to talk about it in text; it's another to give it actual voice. while she can speak such filthy things into the world, sometimes asking for things she wants is tricky. ] I had a dream. You... and another man. At the same time.
no subject
he is aroused, for her. needful, for her. she should know.
he rests her hand at his shoulder and begins the journey down her arm with the tips of his fingers. she has such delicate skin, always soft; thinning into the dip of her elbow. he follows a stark blue vein with both his touch and his gaze. were his fangs to slice her skin there, she would gasp and sound a little cry. he knows, because he remembers the experience fondly. a pair of heated, wicked eyes slide to hers.
not that he isn't listening as she finds voice for her desires; on the contrary. he's waiting patiently and listening intently as she finds the words.
the fantasy is hardly surprising. the specificity of it — you and another man — is what he finds intriguing. who else might feature in her dreams, he wonders? another lover? the smile teasing his lips lingers, but there is a dark calculation that joins it. a tinge of jealousy joining the possessiveness that simmers hot beneath his skin.
his touch rounds her shoulder and travels up her neck. ) And who was this other man? Were we sharing nicely?