Maeve
Maeve stays still, barely breathing even as he leans forward, lips barely brushing against hers and she trembles in an attempt to stay still. Her lips part in anticipation, fingers tightening in his hair even as he starts to speak, his voice dipping into something so painfully familiar it sparks the heat building in her belly to a steady flame. The first condition is laid out and she nods, starting to lean forward to close the distance between their lips, but he denies her. Clearly not done laying out his conditions.
Calloused fingers suddenly find her sides, ghosting over heated skin until they find the straps of her camisole that have already fallen off of her shoulders, searing into her skin where he touches her. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, the loose cardigan she was wearing slipping further down her arms along with the thin camisole, exposing milky white skin to his gaze. She's free of marks besides the beauty marks that litter her skin, no new scars for him to uncover since he last saw her this way, and no tells from previous lovers to be found. Her arms are caught in her cardigan and camisole, pinned to her sides just enough that moving it a touch difficult, but she doesn't squirm out of them. He's the one setting the pace and making the rules. Rules that Maeve intends to follow. "A favor." Maeve echoes, voice soft and breathy, eyes following every movement he makes.
It isn't until his hips shift, pressing into her through the thin fabric of her sleep pants that she gasps, unable to help rocking her hips in response. The friction isn't enough to do anything more than wind her up further, but it's enough to make her squirm in his lap. It takes everything in her to stay focused on him, eyes following the swipe of his tongue, dying to follow that same path with her own. Maeve meets his gaze, holding it for as long as she can before he's dipping forward, stubbled cheek brushing against her own as his lips find her ear. Something like a whine rises in her throat at the heat of his breath there, the way his words coil around her spine, liquid fire seeming to fill her veins as he finally lays out all of his terms.
Their eyes meet again and she can agree with all of them easily, not caring about his final stipulation, knowing why he finds it necessary. She can't blame him for it. If they were going to do this, they needed to be smart about it. That's all there was too it. So Maeve nods, letting out a shaky breath, poised and waiting for him to finally break the tension that's grown so taut between them.
Calloused fingers suddenly find her sides, ghosting over heated skin until they find the straps of her camisole that have already fallen off of her shoulders, searing into her skin where he touches her. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, the loose cardigan she was wearing slipping further down her arms along with the thin camisole, exposing milky white skin to his gaze. She's free of marks besides the beauty marks that litter her skin, no new scars for him to uncover since he last saw her this way, and no tells from previous lovers to be found. Her arms are caught in her cardigan and camisole, pinned to her sides just enough that moving it a touch difficult, but she doesn't squirm out of them. He's the one setting the pace and making the rules. Rules that Maeve intends to follow. "A favor." Maeve echoes, voice soft and breathy, eyes following every movement he makes.
It isn't until his hips shift, pressing into her through the thin fabric of her sleep pants that she gasps, unable to help rocking her hips in response. The friction isn't enough to do anything more than wind her up further, but it's enough to make her squirm in his lap. It takes everything in her to stay focused on him, eyes following the swipe of his tongue, dying to follow that same path with her own. Maeve meets his gaze, holding it for as long as she can before he's dipping forward, stubbled cheek brushing against her own as his lips find her ear. Something like a whine rises in her throat at the heat of his breath there, the way his words coil around her spine, liquid fire seeming to fill her veins as he finally lays out all of his terms.
Their eyes meet again and she can agree with all of them easily, not caring about his final stipulation, knowing why he finds it necessary. She can't blame him for it. If they were going to do this, they needed to be smart about it. That's all there was too it. So Maeve nods, letting out a shaky breath, poised and waiting for him to finally break the tension that's grown so taut between them.
NO ONE WANTS YOU WHEN YOU HAVE NO HEART
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS
AND I’M SITTING PRETTY IN MY BRAND NEW SCARS
