[The way they've arranged themselves makes it difficult for him to buck into her touch, though doing so wouldn't quite be in the spirit of their agreement; his breath hitches with every pull, another soft groan escaping him as she tease and taunts, each touch blessedly sweet torture, her breath against his skin driving him wild. The sight of her tearing open the packet with her teeth does the same, brings something primal in him to life, his gaze heavy with lust and an underlying adoration as he watches her every move with bated breath.
His head drops back as she pulls a long, drawn groan from him, practical measures heightened into something far more with the fluidity of her touch, the lilt of her voice pulling at him, and there's a trembling in his arms thanks to the amount of effort it takes to still himself and rise to the challenge. When she whispers in his ear, the playful teasing and heat of her breath are almost enough to make that last bit of control fray all on their own— it's that last brutal tease against his arousal that tips him over the edge and makes his last remaining thread of willpower snap, and all of a sudden his arm is around her waist and she's on her back with him bearing down on her, his movement charged like that of a predator who had been coiled and waiting to pounce.]
A dangerous question to ask a starving man.
[There's a raw edge to his voice, a low rumble of a laugh just beneath it, and he claims her mouth in a searing kiss as he runs one hand along the underside of her thigh so that he can take hold just behind her knee and hike it upwards to drape against his hip.]
I think you want to be devoured.
[There's mischief in his gaze along with all the rest, and he teases against her entrance with his thumb before guiding himself to it, not bothering to stifle the groaning exhale of pleasure that escapes him as he slowly sinks into her, inch by blissful inch.]
no subject
His head drops back as she pulls a long, drawn groan from him, practical measures heightened into something far more with the fluidity of her touch, the lilt of her voice pulling at him, and there's a trembling in his arms thanks to the amount of effort it takes to still himself and rise to the challenge. When she whispers in his ear, the playful teasing and heat of her breath are almost enough to make that last bit of control fray all on their own— it's that last brutal tease against his arousal that tips him over the edge and makes his last remaining thread of willpower snap, and all of a sudden his arm is around her waist and she's on her back with him bearing down on her, his movement charged like that of a predator who had been coiled and waiting to pounce.]
A dangerous question to ask a starving man.
[There's a raw edge to his voice, a low rumble of a laugh just beneath it, and he claims her mouth in a searing kiss as he runs one hand along the underside of her thigh so that he can take hold just behind her knee and hike it upwards to drape against his hip.]
I think you want to be devoured.
[There's mischief in his gaze along with all the rest, and he teases against her entrance with his thumb before guiding himself to it, not bothering to stifle the groaning exhale of pleasure that escapes him as he slowly sinks into her, inch by blissful inch.]