livingroom dance floor

Remi hadn't listened before to what Isla had whispered in his ear, going off-script and then having the nerve to seem confused when it hadn't been what the medic wanted. With renewed focus that he might not disappoint her a second time, the alchemist meets her kiss eagerly, painting her lips crimson with his tongue.

That she is laying on his wings cages him somewhat, but Remi finds the restrictiveness of it thrilling; he's so capable that rarely does he have to think his way through things anymore. Reaching a hand down the side of her body to hook it beneath the leg already tossed over him, Remi presses himself inside of her again with a shivery groan. Recalling the words whispered in his ear, the alchemist lets his mind wander that adrenaline and a frantic sort of panic might well up in his veins. Releasing these emotions against Isla, Remi's grip against her thigh tightens as he thrusts himself inside of her. With every shift of his hips, the bed of wings upon which Isla lays will flinch and shift about beneath her even as the bones of his upper wings stretch and arc out from his back.

Stretching his arm beneath her shoulder to draw her slightly off the bed and closer to him, Remi reaches out past his wings to dig his claws into the bedding, anchoring himself there. [say]'Say it again,'[/say] He snarls into her neck, clinging to scenarios of stolen moments and near misses that he might continue to bathe her in a sea of emotions that suggest haste and secrecy.