Lena
// what is to give light must endure burning //
She snorted halfway through a retort on that matter; considering how many times she’d tried to instigate the very motions they were going through now. Perhaps, for the moment, that scarcely mattered; so she paid more attention on her fingers slowly trailing down his pants, an audible gasp to follow when he simply said nope.
Her mouth rounded into a defiant ‘o’ within the next few instances, already riled and roused and then told to douse the flames was already a bit too much – but within the breadth of another breath when she was sorting through her emotions, she was lifted into his arms. Blinking unsteadily, her brows furrowed, mind tumbling through the confusion until he offered the statement. “Gods, Zavien, that’s really not-,”
A big deal she wanted to say. She’d have him anywhere and everywhere; not particularly picky, wanting him to be comforted by the dousing steam or the surrounding, pervading waters when they sunk into one another – but any protest died on the edge of her lips. She sighed, hooking her arms around his neck, shaking her head in amusement and trying to keep the masses together. Thereafter, instead of falling into bits of laughter at the strange barrage and tug of war they were having over location, she flounced along the bed, stretching, wholly unbothered, letting him look and preen and eyes wander to his heart’s content, in a very ‘well get on with it’ kind of sentiment, a challenge in the disposition.
As soon as his mouth roamed from her ear though, she gasped and groaned again, a delightful keen in the depths of her throat, bared immediately so that he might trail down that too. Her fingers made quick work of any remaining clothing on him, and one roamed downward, trailing down his abdomen, snagging at the breadth of muscles, while the other arched along the sinew coiled amidst his shoulders. Her legs threatened to hook around his hips immediately; but she supposed he wanted to take it far slower than what her body was craving.
Her mouth rounded into a defiant ‘o’ within the next few instances, already riled and roused and then told to douse the flames was already a bit too much – but within the breadth of another breath when she was sorting through her emotions, she was lifted into his arms. Blinking unsteadily, her brows furrowed, mind tumbling through the confusion until he offered the statement. “Gods, Zavien, that’s really not-,”
A big deal she wanted to say. She’d have him anywhere and everywhere; not particularly picky, wanting him to be comforted by the dousing steam or the surrounding, pervading waters when they sunk into one another – but any protest died on the edge of her lips. She sighed, hooking her arms around his neck, shaking her head in amusement and trying to keep the masses together. Thereafter, instead of falling into bits of laughter at the strange barrage and tug of war they were having over location, she flounced along the bed, stretching, wholly unbothered, letting him look and preen and eyes wander to his heart’s content, in a very ‘well get on with it’ kind of sentiment, a challenge in the disposition.
As soon as his mouth roamed from her ear though, she gasped and groaned again, a delightful keen in the depths of her throat, bared immediately so that he might trail down that too. Her fingers made quick work of any remaining clothing on him, and one roamed downward, trailing down his abdomen, snagging at the breadth of muscles, while the other arched along the sinew coiled amidst his shoulders. Her legs threatened to hook around his hips immediately; but she supposed he wanted to take it far slower than what her body was craving.
