[ Ferdinand has no concept of film editing, nor does he have much of an understanding why someone would want to watch two people they have no investment in have sex. He's always been a hopeless romantic like that, as even as he acknowledged that he might have to accept an arranged marriage one day — something that has, thankfully, not come to pass — he's always viewed physical intimacy and emotional intimacy as equal partners, not things that he can easily separate. Suffice it to say, a lot of this is probably going to end up on the cutting room floor, but to Ferdinand, it's perfect.
He watches with red cheeks, bated breath, and an astonished, reverent gaze as she brings his hand to her throat and then guides it downward. Every inch that his fingers brush against, he maps to his memory.
To think, he'd been utterly dreading this before he realized it was her. ]
I see.
[ Two words, but there's a quiet awe in his voice that speaks volumes. He lowers his gaze to her chest, admiring the heavy lifting her blouse is doing to keep her breasts contained. The outfit looks good on her, in a way that fuels the hunger he feels and makes him ache and swell for her.
His hand moves, curling over a full breast and cupping it in his palm. While his touch is initially light and curious, that quickly gives way to an eagerness tempered only by his desire to do things right, and he begins to knead with his palm. His eyes slowly drift back up to her beautiful eyes and meeting that sweet yet alluring glimmer — perhaps the most seductive asset she has, which is saying quite a bit. ]
All I have had to go on so far is my imagination... but I have done a lot of imagining.
[ The confession is accompanied by his other hand moving to grope the other breast, not wanting to leave any part of her neglected if he has anything to say about it. The presence of fabric in the way does stymie him a bit, but as he lowers himself down onto his knees before her — no need to make her stand up — he takes the opportunity to lean in and press his lips to a part of her that isn't still clothed. Several soft kisses are pressed to the corner of her jaw, followed by a lower, firmer one down the side of her throat. All the while, his breath is warm on her skin, the very core of his chest fluttering with nervous excitement. ]
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He watches with red cheeks, bated breath, and an astonished, reverent gaze as she brings his hand to her throat and then guides it downward. Every inch that his fingers brush against, he maps to his memory.
To think, he'd been utterly dreading this before he realized it was her. ]
I see.
[ Two words, but there's a quiet awe in his voice that speaks volumes. He lowers his gaze to her chest, admiring the heavy lifting her blouse is doing to keep her breasts contained. The outfit looks good on her, in a way that fuels the hunger he feels and makes him ache and swell for her.
His hand moves, curling over a full breast and cupping it in his palm. While his touch is initially light and curious, that quickly gives way to an eagerness tempered only by his desire to do things right, and he begins to knead with his palm. His eyes slowly drift back up to her beautiful eyes and meeting that sweet yet alluring glimmer — perhaps the most seductive asset she has, which is saying quite a bit. ]
All I have had to go on so far is my imagination... but I have done a lot of imagining.
[ The confession is accompanied by his other hand moving to grope the other breast, not wanting to leave any part of her neglected if he has anything to say about it. The presence of fabric in the way does stymie him a bit, but as he lowers himself down onto his knees before her — no need to make her stand up — he takes the opportunity to lean in and press his lips to a part of her that isn't still clothed. Several soft kisses are pressed to the corner of her jaw, followed by a lower, firmer one down the side of her throat. All the while, his breath is warm on her skin, the very core of his chest fluttering with nervous excitement. ]