[He's not the only one growling; her own growl rumbles through their kiss as she spreads her legs a little, lets him feel how hot and wet she is for him as she reaches one hand around his head, tugging his mouth against hers, and the other presses hard agains his ass.
She's already slick, the dampness and the tightness having started when she massaged his back and only growing worse as the time went on. She bites at his mouth, the fine line of his lips, and presses up on her toes to get as close as she can.
But once that kiss is done she's working his pants open and down, over his hips, down as far as she can without pulling away from him. She wants to kiss him again, and so she does, and it's clear he's not the only one possessive here. Every stroke of his hand against her cunt gets her making high-pitched, needy noises, and every time it moves away she growls.]
[ She really is a wild one. He knew it from the moment he saw her, but the extent of it is still being revealed to him in small glimpses sometimes; he wonders if he'll ever know who she truly is, and finds that he wants her just the same either way.
Instead of dragging her onto the bed again, his palm kneading over her cunt goes firm, nearly lifting her, and he backs her up against the table so he can immediately shove her down on top of it. Her empty cup rolls to the floor, and one chair topples over from the force with which he pins her and pulls her legs around his waist. ]
Are you this wet just from touching me?
[ It's barely a murmur, as if he's hardly aware he's even voiced the thought out loud, but the rumble of pure lust in it hints otherwise. ]
-oh, spirits, she can't remember. Before she was taken, for sure, and she still doesn't know how long she was on that ship. She lost track of time. At least nine months, she thinks, and then she's been on Nassau for six, so it's been a time.
She pulls her legs up, hitches them against the small of his back. Her eyes are bright, as she tugs her hips against his hand.]
Yes.
[She says the word like a challenge, her hands going up to his biceps, the low purr of her voice an octave deeper than it usually is. She can't stop looking at him, at his face, at the way he looks at her like he can't quite fathom how he caught a force of nature between his fingers.]
If you had told me to leave I would have ended up snarling my way out of the fort and finding a dark corner to curse your name and use my own hand.
[It's never a good idea to tell a man how much you want him, is what Daphne knows, because men are stupid and think that they'll have power over you. But she doesn't care right now. One hand moves to roll down his chest, to one his nipples, and she runs a short nail over it.]
no subject
She's already slick, the dampness and the tightness having started when she massaged his back and only growing worse as the time went on. She bites at his mouth, the fine line of his lips, and presses up on her toes to get as close as she can.
But once that kiss is done she's working his pants open and down, over his hips, down as far as she can without pulling away from him. She wants to kiss him again, and so she does, and it's clear he's not the only one possessive here. Every stroke of his hand against her cunt gets her making high-pitched, needy noises, and every time it moves away she growls.]
no subject
Instead of dragging her onto the bed again, his palm kneading over her cunt goes firm, nearly lifting her, and he backs her up against the table so he can immediately shove her down on top of it. Her empty cup rolls to the floor, and one chair topples over from the force with which he pins her and pulls her legs around his waist. ]
Are you this wet just from touching me?
[ It's barely a murmur, as if he's hardly aware he's even voiced the thought out loud, but the rumble of pure lust in it hints otherwise. ]
no subject
-oh, spirits, she can't remember. Before she was taken, for sure, and she still doesn't know how long she was on that ship. She lost track of time. At least nine months, she thinks, and then she's been on Nassau for six, so it's been a time.
She pulls her legs up, hitches them against the small of his back. Her eyes are bright, as she tugs her hips against his hand.]
Yes.
[She says the word like a challenge, her hands going up to his biceps, the low purr of her voice an octave deeper than it usually is. She can't stop looking at him, at his face, at the way he looks at her like he can't quite fathom how he caught a force of nature between his fingers.]
If you had told me to leave I would have ended up snarling my way out of the fort and finding a dark corner to curse your name and use my own hand.
[It's never a good idea to tell a man how much you want him, is what Daphne knows, because men are stupid and think that they'll have power over you. But she doesn't care right now. One hand moves to roll down his chest, to one his nipples, and she runs a short nail over it.]