[ would that he could blame this on something other than just an enclosed space—some kind of aphrodisiac, maybe, a drug in his system. a compulsion he wouldn't be able to resist if he tried. it seems like that might make it easier. but no—as aerith pulls back and looks up at him, the lust that hooks its claws in him has nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the devastating shape of her wet, flushed mouth.
tseng says nothing. there's nothing to say, when he's sure the thousand and one emotions in her eyes are clearly reflected in his own, and anyway tseng isn't sure he could find the words.
instead he just presses back in to kiss her again, no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to the giggling and whispering from the painting behind them. he can feel the way she shifts just slightly, poised on the edge of riding his thigh—and who is tseng to discourage her? his hand drops from around her waist down over the tulle of her skirt, coming to rest against her ass and urging her hips against him.
it's only fair, he thinks, that he be able to feel her as clearly as she can surely feel his own erection pressing against her hip through the thicker fabric of his jeans. ]
no subject
tseng says nothing. there's nothing to say, when he's sure the thousand and one emotions in her eyes are clearly reflected in his own, and anyway tseng isn't sure he could find the words.
instead he just presses back in to kiss her again, no longer paying the slightest bit of attention to the giggling and whispering from the painting behind them. he can feel the way she shifts just slightly, poised on the edge of riding his thigh—and who is tseng to discourage her? his hand drops from around her waist down over the tulle of her skirt, coming to rest against her ass and urging her hips against him.
it's only fair, he thinks, that he be able to feel her as clearly as she can surely feel his own erection pressing against her hip through the thicker fabric of his jeans. ]