( jacket or not, she can feel the frigidity of the metal cutting through the fabric, but she finds herself savoring the crisp sting in contrast to the travels of his palms — hot to the touch, teeth where her pulse lurches up, as if evidence of what he did to her, how he unraveled her so easily. (does he know what he's done, feeding her this way? how insatiable she can be?) it runs rampant beneath her skin, a thunderous sound she can't help but to wonder if he can hear, taste, lingering so close.
his hold circles beneath her knee and her limbs respond without so much as a thought, hitching her leg up higher to his side, allowing him to slot between her thighs, exposing bare skin courtesy the slit in her dress. a tasteful divide that could hardly be seen as inappropriate, but undoubtedly chosen with him in mind — that tendency of his to station his palm across her lap while he drove, how often one or the other tempted the touch higher — a seedling of want already planted before the night had begun.
lithe fingers lose themselves within the thick chocolate of his locks, as if to encourage his affections where he'd started them, and when the curse breaks between them he's hardly gotten the words out before she gives a brief flit of fingers at their side, red tendrils cloaking the latch if only for a moment before the lock shifts from its rightful place.
a tug at his hair in encouragement, lips parting to brush against his. )
I have a present. ( it's spoken like silk, low and sweet as she shrugs shrugs a shoulder, allowing the thin strap of her dress to drop, revealing only a hint of the matching lingerie that waits beneath.
she juts a thumb to press at his mouth before he can utter a word. ) Just a taste. ( she tuts, dragging his lip downward til it stumbles to his chin, trailing his throat with a wicked smile. ) You can unwrap it later.
no subject
his hold circles beneath her knee and her limbs respond without so much as a thought, hitching her leg up higher to his side, allowing him to slot between her thighs, exposing bare skin courtesy the slit in her dress. a tasteful divide that could hardly be seen as inappropriate, but undoubtedly chosen with him in mind — that tendency of his to station his palm across her lap while he drove, how often one or the other tempted the touch higher — a seedling of want already planted before the night had begun.
lithe fingers lose themselves within the thick chocolate of his locks, as if to encourage his affections where he'd started them, and when the curse breaks between them he's hardly gotten the words out before she gives a brief flit of fingers at their side, red tendrils cloaking the latch if only for a moment before the lock shifts from its rightful place.
a tug at his hair in encouragement, lips parting to brush against his. )
I have a present. ( it's spoken like silk, low and sweet as she shrugs shrugs a shoulder, allowing the thin strap of her dress to drop, revealing only a hint of the matching lingerie that waits beneath.
she juts a thumb to press at his mouth before he can utter a word. ) Just a taste. ( she tuts, dragging his lip downward til it stumbles to his chin, trailing his throat with a wicked smile. ) You can unwrap it later.