[ her smile widens, lashes fluttering in the wake of his thumb; charmed, despite wanting to press her face into the crook of his neck, as if it would hide the permanent flush on her cheeks. his sincerity and honesty is almost too much to bear, especially here where she's made to accept it. when was the last time someone told her that she was enough? that she was plenty? she can't remember. years of devotion, of prayer, of accepting her fate with grace because there was nothing else she could do—none of it comes close to this: no crest, no nobility, no magic; just her as she is, held so closely as if she were something precious.
he can't know what it means. and yet she feels as if she's the one being saved.
there's a dull ache in her thighs and her lower back, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her hips up, focusing instead on the heat of his hand and the lace of their fingers. her previous orgasm makes the slide easier, smoothing down the force of his thrusts into something sweeter; her breath hitches at the stretch even as her body welcomes it, inner muscles giving way to his quicker pace. ]
It's just right, [ she sighs, feeling a familiar heat pool low in her belly. ] It's perfect.
[ instead of you're perfect, but she thinks he hears it anyway. ]
no subject
he can't know what it means. and yet she feels as if she's the one being saved.
there's a dull ache in her thighs and her lower back, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her hips up, focusing instead on the heat of his hand and the lace of their fingers. her previous orgasm makes the slide easier, smoothing down the force of his thrusts into something sweeter; her breath hitches at the stretch even as her body welcomes it, inner muscles giving way to his quicker pace. ]
It's just right, [ she sighs, feeling a familiar heat pool low in her belly. ] It's perfect.
[ instead of you're perfect, but she thinks he hears it anyway. ]