Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool
His. The idea has never really come to him, always feeling like she is her own force of nature that he's lucky enough to behold, more than anything. That whatever they have between them is something shared, fed by each of them in turn. Hearing her say it though, especially as the sea threatens to take her, the notion gleams fresh and right in his chest. "Mine," he growls out in agreement, the parting trail of her touch sharpening the word.
In response, the ocean gives her back, for now. She presses in and he draws her closer still, palms sliding up higher, cinching in near the side of each breast as his fingers splay around her back. The warm feel of her squished against him, impossibly light as she bobs among the salt and laughter, it sinks into his want and rips it further open. There's no need for her to stretch, his hands are already gathering her up to meet his mouth, urgently trying to satisfy the wild craving for her that's running rampant through him now.
It's a start, kissing her, especially when they're each trying to reach into each other's souls with the process. It turns the teeth of need into just a nip, or maybe that's actually her teeth on him, maybe his teeth on her, hard to say at this point. He just knows it doesn't snuff out the feeling entirely, and so he begs her for more, tugging the contact between them like he's starving. "Fuck," he hisses as her hips jolt against him beneath the water, a long groan dragging out like this is all undue punishment.
"I think," he breathes, tilting his forehead to hers as one hand abandons its vice around her back to border her ass. "This might be one of my worst ideas actually," and it's clear why, as he holds her lower back firm, cock teasing up her thigh in a useless endeavor that only teases them each deeper into madness. It's even more clear why, when they're each inevitably yanked deeper, the ocean not so kind as to let them linger too long on the border of depth and security.
He sighs, longing breaking around a wave that pushes him out with her. He inhales sharply, then dives beneath the next roll of surf, hoping perhaps he'd find a grip on himself before he hauls them both ashore, uses her compass, and fucks her in the dark of her office dripping wet. Which, even underwater, doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
He pops up beside her with a neon splash, no better off than before, and shakes the water from his face with a grin. "In Floratopolis, we definitely need to build more beds and lounges into the city and whatever coast it borders."
In response, the ocean gives her back, for now. She presses in and he draws her closer still, palms sliding up higher, cinching in near the side of each breast as his fingers splay around her back. The warm feel of her squished against him, impossibly light as she bobs among the salt and laughter, it sinks into his want and rips it further open. There's no need for her to stretch, his hands are already gathering her up to meet his mouth, urgently trying to satisfy the wild craving for her that's running rampant through him now.
It's a start, kissing her, especially when they're each trying to reach into each other's souls with the process. It turns the teeth of need into just a nip, or maybe that's actually her teeth on him, maybe his teeth on her, hard to say at this point. He just knows it doesn't snuff out the feeling entirely, and so he begs her for more, tugging the contact between them like he's starving. "Fuck," he hisses as her hips jolt against him beneath the water, a long groan dragging out like this is all undue punishment.
"I think," he breathes, tilting his forehead to hers as one hand abandons its vice around her back to border her ass. "This might be one of my worst ideas actually," and it's clear why, as he holds her lower back firm, cock teasing up her thigh in a useless endeavor that only teases them each deeper into madness. It's even more clear why, when they're each inevitably yanked deeper, the ocean not so kind as to let them linger too long on the border of depth and security.
He sighs, longing breaking around a wave that pushes him out with her. He inhales sharply, then dives beneath the next roll of surf, hoping perhaps he'd find a grip on himself before he hauls them both ashore, uses her compass, and fucks her in the dark of her office dripping wet. Which, even underwater, doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
He pops up beside her with a neon splash, no better off than before, and shakes the water from his face with a grin. "In Floratopolis, we definitely need to build more beds and lounges into the city and whatever coast it borders."
Kaisel
All about the bounce in my step
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
