handelaar | (no subject)

[ Her gaze will always be kind for him, whether she realizes that or not-- locked on his with that soft, sweet understanding she's always had for him, that comprehension deep down of just who and what he is and how he feels and what he thinks and knows and doesn't know that has never really faltered. It's deep down in that understanding where her feelings for him flourish and thrive, and that makes it so much more solid and real for her. She has no idea if he can even fathom such a way of thinking but she hopes he understands that it all comes from deep inside of her too.

Against the sensation and the way he feels releasing inside of her she hardly feels the thumb against her throat and it makes it seem as though she's ignoring it completely before her hand comes up to curl gently around his wrist. She doesn't make to push him away, doesn't make to do anything other than lean down and kiss him, lips parted and warm and wet, drinking in his heat and breathlessness as she continues to rock against him, relentless, knowing how sensitive he gets after he comes and simply ignoring it because she wants this; she wants to be there with him, feel what he's feeling, share that high and be in that one beautiful, fantastic, mesmerizing, indescribable, all encompassing, amazing moment with him. ]

[It almost hurts to look at, all that care, understanding, all that love and once he thinks the word it won't leave. Still, he's not sure he deserves it from her. But he's certainly comfortable with matching her gaze and trying to echo it back tenfold, stupid, starstruck, potentially world-ending love included.

She might ignore his thumb and curl her fingers around his wrist and kiss him, but the impact doesn't hit him all at once. It's delayed, but he laughs, without knowing why. It's way too soon for him, and more importantly it isn't right for her, not with her still rocking and gentle and most important of all still wanting, still worked up and on the edge and he should be taking care of her, wet and gentle and insistent, flipping them over and raising her skirts with his thumbs and tasting her, and him, both, all the while looking up at her - so why the fuck is he laughing into her mouth. Maybe it's because he's wiped and she's still wringing everything out of him. Maybe it's because that was a lot of emotion all at once, there, and he's cracking. Maybe? Maybe it's just because he's as high as five goddamn kites.]

[ The laugh is enough to get her to pause, half because something like that is so rare, so sweet, so enchanting that it sends a shudder down her spine as his lips tickle hers. And half because it's so out of place that she can't help but blink her eyes open and look at him curiously, her eyes asking "What?" ]

[She opens her eyes, he sees the question, and he gives his head a shake as he pulls her tight to him, kisses at her face, open-mouthed and without teeth, and pulls himself out because goddamn if he doesn't it'll - they'll spoil her dress. That dress. But after a few moments he uses the pause to push her away, eyes on her the entire time.]

[ And for a moment there's relief because she really does think it's nothing. It can't be with the way he's pulling her in tight and kissing her all over. Then he pulls out and pushes her away and that moment of relief tightens into something a little more worrisome. Great, what did she do now? She gives him another questioning look as she sits back, looking confused. ]

D-Did I do something?

Mm? [Oh, shit, he didn't mean to worry her, it's almost enough to make him reach out to pull her back in. Again he gives his head a shake.]

No. Just, uh. Sensitive. [His eyes flick away at that and he shifts up onto his elbows with a small grunt, feeling both a little shy and like he needs to be asking her what she wants... he settles for meeting her gaze again and letting a hand trail up her thigh, question on his face.]

[ Well, when you just kind of shove her off she's gonna wonder if it's something she did. But when he mentions his sensitivity she blushes and kinda looks down. She knows how he gets and she just completely ignored it thinking he could deal be he obviously couldn't and now she feels like the jerk. ]

Oh, sorry...

[ Her lip finds it's way between her teeth, nibbling on it before she feels that large, warm hand ghost up her thigh, slipping beneath fabric and watching the floral print catch and bunch up around his wrist as it travels further and further. In an instant she feels her pulse quicken and she glances up only to find him already looking at him, that look on his face like he as to ask for permission, as though at this point he isn't allowed to just take.

A hard swallow and soft nod later her own fingers are traveling up his wrist, giving him the encouragement he needs as she leans forward to kiss him sweetly. ]

[His brain is mush give him a break zus. Wait, shit shit shit, he almost huffs when she apologizes, but turns out he's still a bit too breathless to manage it.

But that little bit of encouragement is all he needs - that much and he's shifting them up to sit with her in his lap (awkward with his trousers still around his ankles but kissing her is too absorbing for him to pay it much attention) with one hand dragging its way up and under her skirt to brush at her and the other pulling her close, half a grin against her lips all the while.]

[ Her worries melt away when he sits up and pulls her into his lap, sighing and draping her arms over his shoulders and his hands and fingers wander beneath her skirt. That smirk is obvious against her lips and it makes her lips tug into a smile of her own, letting out a moan against his mouth as her hips rock against his fingers. ]

[While he's feeling lazy and content, and his kisses echo it, it's obvious that she isn't but he's just as glad to answer her moan with his hands instead of his lips. Doesn't mean he's not intentionally going slow, though - part of it is to tease, part of it is because he's relaxed, and part of it is fucking reveling in just how warm and slick and real she is, and in the evidence of - of them - all over his fingers.]

[ She's wound up to say the very least, still feeling hot and tight in the pit of her stomach and the hollow of her elbows and knees and between her legs, still caught with so much arousal needing to be tended to. She only half realizes just how slick she is with the easy glide of his fingers over her, brushing her, rubbing her, teasing her to exhaustion as she pulls herself close, resting her temple against his and letting him feel and hear just how short of breath she is, just how warm she feels, letting the rock in her hips and the grip of her fingers on his bare skin tell him just how much she wants him. ]

[She stops kissing his lips and suddenly her breath is hot and heavy across his ear, her temple sticking to his own as she pants out tiny, forceful little breaths, and in that second he realizes he needs to do something more because she's way ahead of him. More slick than he thought. More shaky. More exhausted, more insistent, hot, wet, warm, trembling, wanting, needing. Much more close to the edge than he thought.

And so he doesn't change a single. Damn. Thing.

In fact, he pulls his arm around her waist and attempts to lock her hips into place.]

[ Between his arm and the fabric of the dress it gets a lot more difficult to move at all, making her whine helplessly in his ear because this ache, this throb won't ease up unless she grinds on something and he is not helping whatsoever...

Then it dawns on her that he just might be doing this on purpose, earning him a grunt and a bite on the neck before she's reaching down beneath her skirt to attempt to take care of it herself. ]

[Fuck, yes, that bite was what he was -

No. He takes his own hand away from her to bat her hand away, pulls back just enough to look at her as his fingers lightly circle her wrist, to give her a look. While he might be done, himself, he's nowhere near done with her. Not yet. She's not done, so why the hell should he be.

And while he knows it's a marked change from what they've established before... he's watching for where she takes this.]

[ She feels his hand bat hers away and she pulls away to look at him, everything still in an aroused haze as he plays at her wrist. It takes her a minute to realize exactly what it is he's doing and she just blinks at him for a moment before she takes his hand, bringing it up to her lips to lick them off of his fingers. ]

J-Just don't tease me too long...

[His eyes flutter shut when she does that. Fuck, Bel. Like he could, after that. A deep breath and he opens them, looks at her -

Smirks.

And bites at her neck as he lets her go, wrenches his hand out from her grip and picks up where he left off.]

[ She can't help but watch him with lidded eyes, smiling back at him as he leans in to bite her, hnngh. Her eyes flutter closed and her head rolls back, giving him all of her neck as her hips rock into those long, dexterous fingers once more, that ache between her legs desperate to be quelled. ]

[As soon as responds to that - responds better than he ever thought, it's enough to send a jolt through him even if it'll never get them to round two - he abandons the teasing and decides to see just how far he can push the envelope with this new development.

Two fingers slip in and he immediately gets greedy, ups it to three as she rocks against him and his thumb does the rest. He litters her neck with tiny nips that slide into bites and licks and back again, possessive, spurred on by the thought of seeing those marks in the morning sun, bends at an uncomfortable angle to attempt the same at the skin right above the lines of her dress even as his grip on her waist disengages, his hand comes up to roughly fondle her curves through the fabric (possessive).]

[ This. This right here is what she's been waiting for; losing himself completely in her, tossing aside all the hesitations and restrictions and borders and just being greedy and selfish and wanting and giving her every he has and still wanting more because it's not enough-- THIS is the passion she's longed for for so long from so many. She never thought she would get it from the one person who's been with her the longest, never thought she'd get it from the one person who has the right to say they don't want to because they've grown tired or bored with her. It seems to be quite the opposite in fact with how he's tending to her.

The feel of teeth scraping and tongue sliding over her skin makes her melt in his arms, head rolling and shoulders leaning back to give him more space for that mouth to wander all over her neck and shoulders and chest and anywhere he can reach as she rocks harder and harder against his fingers. The sound she makes when she feels that third digit is something between a shuddery mewl and a desperate whine, almost begging him to never stop this. It's possessive and rough and selfish and greedy and desperate and wanting and needing and so very very REAL that she can't help but get lost in it, giving herself to sensation and emotion and she never expected from him. ]

[He doesn't even think of it as getting lost. To him, it's re-drawing the lines, charting out just what he can do and how she reacts and how far they can go, and maybe that's appropriate because that's how he's always seen the world, always built it. It's just that a tiny bit of encouragement from her in the right way and to the right thing and at the right moment suddenly, inexplicably, has him sailing off; discovery, unknown, claiming, all that shit that normally makes him so wary given the past. Their past and his both.
But if he were ever honest with himself - that spark never really died. And even more damning is how thrilled he is to try it out with her in a completely new iteration, hoping that this time he knows better than to screw it up after so many screw-ups.
Fuck, and then between the way he kisses her, licks across her sternum, nips at her dress, presses as close as he can - moans, did that noise just come from him - and the way she rocks back with abandon - there's the thought that maybe one of these days they can draw the lines so far around that they meet, that there are none. So she makes one sound and rocks one way and they come to one, two, good agreements and suddenly he's got a pass to be a reckless teen all over again or something - but lost? Nah. This is right where he wants to be. Where he's always wanted to be.]

Edited (herp) 2012-09-25 04:13 (UTC)

[ The night air seems hotter than ever as they go on, her dress sticking to slick skin, curls flaring wildly with heat as she digs her fingers into his flesh and slowly grinds against those fingers, toes curling hard as she starts to shake and tremble in his arms.

It isn't long before her breathless panting turns into something a little more desperate, a little more pleading, her body wracked with pleasure and eyes shut tight as she lets herself go, gives up the fight and melts around his fingers with soft, shuddery groan. ]

[And he keeps it up, simultaneously selfish, greedy, and mapping her and everything she does anew, noting each little sound and response, only getting encouragement the further he ravishes her. It only serves to make it all the better when she finally gives in, satisfaction curling in his chest even as he smirks against her neck as she shudders in his lap -

But despite that he still feels the need to pull his mouth away to press a small, light, happy kiss to the very corner of her parted lips at the end of it. Because hell, despite the recklessness (or maybe it's recklessness itself that drives him, who knows) he wants to share the happiness with her, show it to her.]

[ She's still pulling in deep, slow breaths as he pulls away from her neck, eyes still closed and mind still reeling from her orgasm before she feels his lips on hers. Something in the kiss pulls her back from her high but in the absolutely best way. Before she knows it her lips are tugging into a smile, moving back though they aren't really kissing back, her arms curling around him as she slowly settles her weight against him, letting him hold her up as she enjoys that pleasant, numb bliss that's settling over her body. ]

[When she pulls back, he pulls his hand away, more gentle than he feels like being simply because he can feel her smile press beneath his kiss and he doesn't want to wreck her bliss. His free arm wraps around her and he finally sighs out, long, trying to rid himself of the desire to litter little marks across her, still, in one drawn-out breath. Instead, he nuzzles, once.

Old habits and all.]

[ She doesn't fight or whine when he pulls away, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair, scratching affectionately at his scalp and letting out a soft, content sigh into his ear. She's happy. And she can tell he is as well which only makes her happier. In fact, she can't remember the last time she's felt so comfortable. ]

Make time stop...

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Still love that icon forever.

Speaking of I have to get that one of them over here.

Which one?

starstruck

Aww yes. I like that one.

Shazzam! Also it's facepalm at Ned o'clock

Hee! And Buhyoo, Ned. I can't handre you sometimes.

...secret sap.

NOT so secret sap. :)

wow "shuttering shut" gj self I MEANT TIGHT SECOND TIME