[ Once that leotard is off, Red feels she needs to get rid of that last little bit of fabric she still has on. That ridiculous bit of "chainmail" armor that covers her groin. It's gone in a moment and then she finds her fingers interlaced with Cellinia's, her hand over her heart. She breathes deep, letting herself settle, feeling the beating of Cellinia's heart. It's enough to make Irene want her even more. She's still for a few heartbeats, half suspended over Cellinia, her eyes drinking her in, her own body full of heat and desire, a steady drumbeat in her chest as she tries to figure out where she wants to start. She steadies herself, legs spreading to retain her balance. ]
Cellinia...
[ The name spills out and then she dips down to kiss at her belly. Her other hand joins the first, sliding over her other breast and cupping it in her hand as she leaves more kisses against her belly, the lower arch of her ribcage, her side, then higher, between her breasts again. It's slow and languid and worshipful all over again, as if she has to prove that she adores every part of her that she can see. Her arousal is there - steady and needy and wanting - but she doesn't want to rush; there's no need for a hurried, quick, fervent sort of thing here. Not when she can take her time. ]
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Cellinia...
[ The name spills out and then she dips down to kiss at her belly. Her other hand joins the first, sliding over her other breast and cupping it in her hand as she leaves more kisses against her belly, the lower arch of her ribcage, her side, then higher, between her breasts again. It's slow and languid and worshipful all over again, as if she has to prove that she adores every part of her that she can see. Her arousal is there - steady and needy and wanting - but she doesn't want to rush; there's no need for a hurried, quick, fervent sort of thing here. Not when she can take her time. ]