[ the first press of skin to skin makes her sigh, the friction so sweet it leaves her trembling in its wake. her hands find his shoulders for something to hold on to, and her back arches, briefly, as if to seek more—more contact, more of his weight, as if he could be any closer than he already is. something winds tightly in her abdomen, anticipation and desire and a number of other things that she can't quite identify; they blur together seamlessly in a flush of heat as his heartbeat aligns itself with hers. ]
Mm, [ the pad of her thumb is soft where it lingers, feather-light. it's her job to notice, after all. ] Does it still hurt?
[ in both senses—physically and emotionally. she tilts her head up to replace her thumb with her lips instead, fingers sliding into his hair to cup the back of his head. ]
no subject
Mm, [ the pad of her thumb is soft where it lingers, feather-light. it's her job to notice, after all. ] Does it still hurt?
[ in both senses—physically and emotionally. she tilts her head up to replace her thumb with her lips instead, fingers sliding into his hair to cup the back of his head. ]