// not yet corpses, still we rot //
If he could still get true shivers and goosebumps, her hand raking through his longer dark hair would’ve certainly spurred a whole host of them along his neck and shoulders. For now, though, it just brightens the tinge that covers his skin the second they’re in the room. He locks the door, turns to face her, flushed as much as an Ascended can be, but he barely has a chance to say anything when she approaches swiftly – a kiss connecting them as he drops whatever he’d been holding (if anything, it truly doesn’t matter now), to press against her and chase the taste of her lips.
Her hips rock against his and it’s infuriating at first, the edge of a growl slipping from him as he pulls away, to run his kisses along her jaw and her cheek, arms slipping around her to pick her up (made a bit easier with the metal arm, less bits of skin to twist and be uncomfortable when it’s simply smooth metal). “It might have actually been forever.” He hums to her in a lower tone, his amusement quirking the corners of his lips as he walks them back toward the bed. “At least this time I’m entirely myself.” He winks to her. Not broody, not needing a pick me up, no. He’s fully in this.
And certainly she should be able to tell given the way his pants tighten, the pressure pressed against her hips with each footstep toward the bed that drives him wild.
Her hips rock against his and it’s infuriating at first, the edge of a growl slipping from him as he pulls away, to run his kisses along her jaw and her cheek, arms slipping around her to pick her up (made a bit easier with the metal arm, less bits of skin to twist and be uncomfortable when it’s simply smooth metal). “It might have actually been forever.” He hums to her in a lower tone, his amusement quirking the corners of his lips as he walks them back toward the bed. “At least this time I’m entirely myself.” He winks to her. Not broody, not needing a pick me up, no. He’s fully in this.
And certainly she should be able to tell given the way his pants tighten, the pressure pressed against her hips with each footstep toward the bed that drives him wild.
VARUS
