Again, he finds himself unable to guess, to retrace his every step tonight. Except- he knows he's had, by this point, more than one glass of champagne to drink. All he can wonder, as he lets the woman do with him as she will, is if he tastes drunk. If she did or not, he couldn't tell. Didn't want to know. Because she was beyond interesting and entertaining, and (if he's honest) the smile getting brighter made his heart jump, his chest feel hollow of anything but want. Want for--?
He'd let no one play with his hair. It was a trophy of sorts. But if the bridge of his nose begins to feel hot and he sighs against the strokes, he's sure no one will belittle him for it. Her lips were too soft, too enticingly warm. He met them with relish (it's such an odd feeling, to want more of something). And then her hands are on his body and he knows he's being caged in. He can't care. There's color tinting his ears now, and... a jerk of his body toward her when her hands roam his back. He'd forgotten he was still sore, still wounded, still wearing bandages under his clothing.
All things must be in balance. He presses the kiss deeper, he takes his turn, in retaliation, to hold a bite of her lower lip between his. And he sucks it for a second and returns his attention to her mouth. He wants it open. It'll keep his mind off the flash and panic of injury and not knowing.]
no subject
Again, he finds himself unable to guess, to retrace his every step tonight. Except- he knows he's had, by this point, more than one glass of champagne to drink. All he can wonder, as he lets the woman do with him as she will, is if he tastes drunk. If she did or not, he couldn't tell. Didn't want to know. Because she was beyond interesting and entertaining, and (if he's honest) the smile getting brighter made his heart jump, his chest feel hollow of anything but want. Want for--?
He'd let no one play with his hair. It was a trophy of sorts. But if the bridge of his nose begins to feel hot and he sighs against the strokes, he's sure no one will belittle him for it. Her lips were too soft, too enticingly warm. He met them with relish (it's such an odd feeling, to want more of something). And then her hands are on his body and he knows he's being caged in. He can't care. There's color tinting his ears now, and... a jerk of his body toward her when her hands roam his back. He'd forgotten he was still sore, still wounded, still wearing bandages under his clothing.
All things must be in balance. He presses the kiss deeper, he takes his turn, in retaliation, to hold a bite of her lower lip between his. And he sucks it for a second and returns his attention to her mouth. He wants it open. It'll keep his mind off the flash and panic of injury and not knowing.]