Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool
He has to hand it to her, there is something about kissing her on a beach that's quickly climbing towards the top of the list. The sound of the surf roaring, the sparking of the waves against their calves, the drag of the sand beneath their feet, it all echoes and magnifies the intensity of kissing her. The way his pulse thrums up behind his ears at her touch, the electric buzz where their lips meet, the way the world slides away and leaves only her in the center of it all. Kissing her is the beach.
He's just decided they'll have to go kiss in every environment they can reach and rank them all when she's then fading out of view and reach. He almost regrets not just slamming his boxers down if it means losing her for the affair of it all, almost. Instead, he tilts his head down, following the retreat of her to his waist. If kissing her had been this low-tide magic of bioluminescence, then what comes next is the swell of something fiercer.
Hunger twitches like a separate, living thing wherever she touches along his legs, jolting through his core with teeth when her own graze over him. It's effort to bear witness to her work and not reach down to just take her, but he doesn't want to disrupt her either, and the conflict instead forces out as a hiss of want as she shifts the fabric away.
When she looks up through her tangled crown, it's impossible to stand by. Unable to keep his hands to themselves any longer he reaches down to grab either side of her jaw, pulling her back up to height with care that undermines all the rougher thoughts rising with the tide of his arousal. "It's perfect," he murmurs around the rough press of his mouth to her neck, absently kicking the rest of his boxers away with his legs as his lips dote over her skin in unrestrained affection. All the while he moves them both slowly further into the tide, each vibrant splash a creeping chill that doesn't reach beyond the heat she's put into him. "You're right, it does seem dangerous to be here at night," the low edge of his voice suggesting that she's the only thing he's in danger of here. Although, gods, he hopes the sharks are sleeping.
He's just decided they'll have to go kiss in every environment they can reach and rank them all when she's then fading out of view and reach. He almost regrets not just slamming his boxers down if it means losing her for the affair of it all, almost. Instead, he tilts his head down, following the retreat of her to his waist. If kissing her had been this low-tide magic of bioluminescence, then what comes next is the swell of something fiercer.
Hunger twitches like a separate, living thing wherever she touches along his legs, jolting through his core with teeth when her own graze over him. It's effort to bear witness to her work and not reach down to just take her, but he doesn't want to disrupt her either, and the conflict instead forces out as a hiss of want as she shifts the fabric away.
When she looks up through her tangled crown, it's impossible to stand by. Unable to keep his hands to themselves any longer he reaches down to grab either side of her jaw, pulling her back up to height with care that undermines all the rougher thoughts rising with the tide of his arousal. "It's perfect," he murmurs around the rough press of his mouth to her neck, absently kicking the rest of his boxers away with his legs as his lips dote over her skin in unrestrained affection. All the while he moves them both slowly further into the tide, each vibrant splash a creeping chill that doesn't reach beyond the heat she's put into him. "You're right, it does seem dangerous to be here at night," the low edge of his voice suggesting that she's the only thing he's in danger of here. Although, gods, he hopes the sharks are sleeping.
Kaisel
All about the bounce in my step
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
