[ she knows just how encouraging it is for him when her fingers tug just like that, sending little pinpricks racing along his skin to gather hungrily in his core, bursting with the husky oh that falls from his lips. it’s a promise, a warning, maybe, in response to the gift she dangles right before his eyes as he pulls back just enough to look.
and look he does. the heat darkens in gaze as his mouth parts beneath her thumb, his throat working around a swallow when her touch blazes hot in its wake. the red lace peeks just above the draped satin of her dress and lays stark against her skin, outlining glimpses beneath the delicate pattern. she’ll feel his chuckle more than hear it, the rumble winding tight with his quickened pulse. she must know how he gets when she smiles at him like that, when she teases with that touch at his throat. he’s sensitive there.
the latche releases with a twist of his wrist and he holds her weight against him with his grip under her leg. the door gives beneath them, but he only steps in enough to get to the other side, to push her back against its warm side until it’s slamming shut again, perhaps with more force than needed. she can handle it. the lock clicks back into place, loud in the empty service corridor, lit only by dim floor lights.
this is what she wants, isn’t it? him, exploiting that slit, the satin of her dress pooling at his wrist as his touch carves up her thigh to greedily touch whatever skin he can reach? his other hand, lifting off the lock to delve into her hair, to gather the carefully styled locks into a tangled handful, a sharp tug so his mouth can find purchase at her clavicles. it’s soft only briefly before a bite scrapes hard against its ridge. ]
no subject
and look he does. the heat darkens in gaze as his mouth parts beneath her thumb, his throat working around a swallow when her touch blazes hot in its wake. the red lace peeks just above the draped satin of her dress and lays stark against her skin, outlining glimpses beneath the delicate pattern. she’ll feel his chuckle more than hear it, the rumble winding tight with his quickened pulse. she must know how he gets when she smiles at him like that, when she teases with that touch at his throat. he’s sensitive there.
the latche releases with a twist of his wrist and he holds her weight against him with his grip under her leg. the door gives beneath them, but he only steps in enough to get to the other side, to push her back against its warm side until it’s slamming shut again, perhaps with more force than needed. she can handle it. the lock clicks back into place, loud in the empty service corridor, lit only by dim floor lights.
this is what she wants, isn’t it? him, exploiting that slit, the satin of her dress pooling at his wrist as his touch carves up her thigh to greedily touch whatever skin he can reach? his other hand, lifting off the lock to delve into her hair, to gather the carefully styled locks into a tangled handful, a sharp tug so his mouth can find purchase at her clavicles. it’s soft only briefly before a bite scrapes hard against its ridge. ]
I don’t feel like waiting.