[ That's fine. He enjoys it when she's vocal; it tells him that he's doing the right thing. That she enjoys the touch he drags over skin and fur and that he's making sure she feels good. What else can one ask for? He drags at her nightgown - its in the way now, preventing him from getting as close as he'd like - and tugs the strap off of one shoulder and then the other so he can pile it at her waist and let his mouth find the peak of her nipple, tongue lathing against it.
There's pleasure in this; in being allowed to give rather than take. ]
[The nightgown slips off her with ease, fabric smooth against her soft fur. She does shift a bit to help him do away with it, and she's laid half-bare beneath him. The fur at her chest is the same as it is throughout the rest of her body, but the fur at her nipples is finer, and her arousal brings them to prominence, sensitive to his touch.]
Mmm [Her fingers tense through his fur, gripping him as he puts his mouth over her, his tongue brushing against the sensitive peak in a way that tightens her to her very core, body burning up. She's been with him a good handful of times now, but each and every time his mouth is up against her, she can't stop thinking about his teeth...]
[ Those teeth of his close gently against her flesh, trapping the nipple between them so that he can lavish it with more attention from his tongue. There's always a thrill here; the sense of danger, perhaps, or the threat of breaking the skin. Carnivore and herbivore balanced together. He wouldn't hurt her. Doesn't want to.
But there's always the possibility.
He switches teeth and tongue and lips to her other breast and by now one of his hands are running down her side to the cloth bunched at her waist, trying to find his way underneath. The other seeks out one of her hands, interlaces their fingers and squeezes - it's a gesture of affection and intimacy, one that makes him shiver head to toe with that sense of anticipation. ]
Ah, John... [His name escapes her, beyond her control almost, when she feels his teeth teasing sensitive flesh. Knowing how easily she could be torn apart, the danger rattling through her in a way that builds with the threat of release.
Sex is instinct, but fear is too for her, and muddled within that is the sense of control and power sleeping with someone does offer her and it's one of the few times she actually still feels alive.
She's looking, eyes half-lidded, up at the ceiling, finding shapes in the cracks to keep herself grounded, shifting her hips up so he can pull the cloth of her gown further down, along with her undergarments if he so chooses-- lacy and useless with how wet she is now.
Her hand meets his, and she shifts back a bit more to prop her back up against a pillow to look down at him. Her own way of intimacy, along with her lacing his fingers between his.
He seems to take up the whole bed compared to her.]
[ The way she says his name makes him shiver on top of her and his fingers squeeze a little tighter around hers. There is instinct in this; appreciation and affection and more. Her nightgown is disposed off, tossed aside along with her undergarments, and she is gloriously naked underneath him.
Although now he feels overdressed.
He'll deal with it in a moment.
For now he continues to essentially worship her - or perhaps consume her - with every brush of his tongue and nip of his teeth against her breasts. He sprawls out before (over) her, gazing up at her with lidded eyes as his mouth finally moves lower, planting kisses in the soft fur against her belly, threatening to go lower and lower. ]
[Being stripped bare is a relief for her at this point, what remained on her feeling clingy and stifling in the wake of this expanding, overwhelming heat. She squeezes his hand back in return, sitting up even more so as he begins to trace her with his mouth down further.
He is overdressed, even having removed his pants, but for now that observation doesn't even linger for long when he looks up at her, his mouth at her stomach, her own fur already in disarray from the brush of his tongue.
She's needful, body pleading with her to push him downward even faster, but the nights are long and for now she has time. Even still, she shifts once again beneath him, legs splayed for him.
She wants to be consumed...in any way he'd have her.]
[ There's still his undershirt and his boxers, but he hasn't touched those yet. His attention is on her for now and he isn't worried about himself. Not yet. Instead, his fangs scrape against her belly, mouth opening wide as he glances up at her, and he drags his tongue along the slickness of her sex, tasting her. It's a gentle, slow lick and drag and then he repeats it, teasing at her labia, pulling the flat of his tongue against the hood of her clit.
It's a slow sort of devouring, but one he appreciates intensely. ]
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no subject
There's pleasure in this; in being allowed to give rather than take. ]
no subject
Mmm [Her fingers tense through his fur, gripping him as he puts his mouth over her, his tongue brushing against the sensitive peak in a way that tightens her to her very core, body burning up. She's been with him a good handful of times now, but each and every time his mouth is up against her, she can't stop thinking about his teeth...]
no subject
But there's always the possibility.
He switches teeth and tongue and lips to her other breast and by now one of his hands are running down her side to the cloth bunched at her waist, trying to find his way underneath. The other seeks out one of her hands, interlaces their fingers and squeezes - it's a gesture of affection and intimacy, one that makes him shiver head to toe with that sense of anticipation. ]
no subject
Sex is instinct, but fear is too for her, and muddled within that is the sense of control and power sleeping with someone does offer her and it's one of the few times she actually still feels alive.
She's looking, eyes half-lidded, up at the ceiling, finding shapes in the cracks to keep herself grounded, shifting her hips up so he can pull the cloth of her gown further down, along with her undergarments if he so chooses-- lacy and useless with how wet she is now.
Her hand meets his, and she shifts back a bit more to prop her back up against a pillow to look down at him. Her own way of intimacy, along with her lacing his fingers between his.
He seems to take up the whole bed compared to her.]
no subject
Although now he feels overdressed.
He'll deal with it in a moment.
For now he continues to essentially worship her - or perhaps consume her - with every brush of his tongue and nip of his teeth against her breasts. He sprawls out before (over) her, gazing up at her with lidded eyes as his mouth finally moves lower, planting kisses in the soft fur against her belly, threatening to go lower and lower. ]
no subject
He is overdressed, even having removed his pants, but for now that observation doesn't even linger for long when he looks up at her, his mouth at her stomach, her own fur already in disarray from the brush of his tongue.
She's needful, body pleading with her to push him downward even faster, but the nights are long and for now she has time. Even still, she shifts once again beneath him, legs splayed for him.
She wants to be consumed...in any way he'd have her.]
no subject
It's a slow sort of devouring, but one he appreciates intensely. ]