I couldn't utter my love when it counted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Koa doesn't know about Flora's inner turmoil; he's not a mind reader, after all. And while he may have his own things he's not said about Soh's return and his hopes and fears and the allegiance to Safrin and the new ambition stirred in his breast, none of that is anywhere near the forefront of his mind. Blame the way her fingers tug him deeper into the kiss; blame the blood that's left his head and pooled into his groin; blame his own naiveté for thinking they're on the same page, that what this means to her is what it means to him: I like you, I choose you, I want you alone.
So he takes the thing he wants so badly, following the trail of crumbs she leaves. Lean muscles push into Flora, pushing her back against the rail of the bridge. He lets his hands wander from her face down her body, the wine glass set on the wide stone railing to better allow him to explore. Koa is aware of each point of contact: her hands on his neck, her breasts against his chest, her thigh pressing between his legs, where desire tightens his pants. He's aware of just how short her dress is, his fingers skirting the point where the lacy hem gives way to silken skin.
Inevitably breathing becomes important, and their lips are made to part. "I could always use more practice," he chuckles huskily in response to Flora's compliment, eyes glowing copper beneath hooded lids as he gazes down on her rosy mouth, the lips like bruised flower petals begging for another kiss. It takes every ounce of his self control to keep from claiming that mouth again; instead he lets out a low groan, dropping his head onto her shoulder, his lips beside her ear. "Can I tell you a secret?" Koa asks, not waiting before moving on. "I would very much like to fuck you right now. Here, on this bridge. You make me crazy, Sunflower."
So he takes the thing he wants so badly, following the trail of crumbs she leaves. Lean muscles push into Flora, pushing her back against the rail of the bridge. He lets his hands wander from her face down her body, the wine glass set on the wide stone railing to better allow him to explore. Koa is aware of each point of contact: her hands on his neck, her breasts against his chest, her thigh pressing between his legs, where desire tightens his pants. He's aware of just how short her dress is, his fingers skirting the point where the lacy hem gives way to silken skin.
Inevitably breathing becomes important, and their lips are made to part. "I could always use more practice," he chuckles huskily in response to Flora's compliment, eyes glowing copper beneath hooded lids as he gazes down on her rosy mouth, the lips like bruised flower petals begging for another kiss. It takes every ounce of his self control to keep from claiming that mouth again; instead he lets out a low groan, dropping his head onto her shoulder, his lips beside her ear. "Can I tell you a secret?" Koa asks, not waiting before moving on. "I would very much like to fuck you right now. Here, on this bridge. You make me crazy, Sunflower."
Koa
And I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now
totally sniped from odd ilu
