get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to the backseat
Flora gives a bouncy little shrug, which, given that she’s still wound around Kaisel, sends her shifting slightly in his arms in a way that makes her grin flash wide and helplessly pleased, because apparently even discussing the divine logistics of orgasm interruption can’t stop some bright, adoring part of her from noticing the way he holds her. "Maybe instead of delaying, I get a warning?" she suggests, her nose wrinkling at the thought. "Although I guess I dunno how that would work. Normally when you channel, even you don’t know when you’re going to do it necessarily."
As he leans her back down toward the floor, Flora lets her legs unwind from his waist, her feet finding the tile while the rest of her remains close for half a second longer, fingers still caught near his shoulders before she finally lets him go. Her delight hasn’t dimmed so much as changed shape, the initial explosion of it settling into something molten and fizzy beneath her skin, all gold bubbles and candlelight and the wild unreality of having a brand-new word attached to her name. The thought keeps turning over and over inside her, too bright to look at straight on, and every time it brushes against the bond it sends another warm little flare of astonished joy through her.
When Kaisel suggests they practise, Flora laughs, bright and delighted. "Okay, but you can’t make me do anything stupid!" she calls after him, even though the moment the words leave her mouth she knows, with the grim certainty of a woman who has voluntarily married chaos in sweatpants, that this is almost certainly going to make him try to do exactly that.
Still, as he prepares to dash off, Flora swallows and tries to take stock of herself, which is a hilarious thing to attempt when her entire body feels like someone has poured sunshine directly into her veins. She flexes her fingers, glances down at her gold rings, then presses one palm lightly against her chest as if there might be some visible seam where mortal ends and whatever Safrin has made of her begins, but of course there’s only the hammering of her heart and the strange, glittering awareness that something has changed even if she can’t yet name where.
As he leans her back down toward the floor, Flora lets her legs unwind from his waist, her feet finding the tile while the rest of her remains close for half a second longer, fingers still caught near his shoulders before she finally lets him go. Her delight hasn’t dimmed so much as changed shape, the initial explosion of it settling into something molten and fizzy beneath her skin, all gold bubbles and candlelight and the wild unreality of having a brand-new word attached to her name. The thought keeps turning over and over inside her, too bright to look at straight on, and every time it brushes against the bond it sends another warm little flare of astonished joy through her.
When Kaisel suggests they practise, Flora laughs, bright and delighted. "Okay, but you can’t make me do anything stupid!" she calls after him, even though the moment the words leave her mouth she knows, with the grim certainty of a woman who has voluntarily married chaos in sweatpants, that this is almost certainly going to make him try to do exactly that.
Still, as he prepares to dash off, Flora swallows and tries to take stock of herself, which is a hilarious thing to attempt when her entire body feels like someone has poured sunshine directly into her veins. She flexes her fingers, glances down at her gold rings, then presses one palm lightly against her chest as if there might be some visible seam where mortal ends and whatever Safrin has made of her begins, but of course there’s only the hammering of her heart and the strange, glittering awareness that something has changed even if she can’t yet name where.
no one's ever had me, not like you
