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
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. ]