What can she do but hold him tighter? Loxley says such sweet things. He says I want and unspools all of this, a particular kind of wanting.
To know her. What a heady thing to consider. Later, she can decide whether or not it's something to worry over or not. Right now, there is a shivery laugh, right against his mouth, that melts into a fractured, gasping moan for the feeling of his fingers on her skin and the movement of his hips.
"You're so good," she tells him again, voice thick and honeyed over the words. Her hands have tightened in his hair, clinging on as she repeats up against his mouth, "You're so good, Loxley."
Words that will need to stand in for all other things. She'll trip over herself if she tries to tell him.
It is with great effort that she untangles her fingers from his hair to reach down and find his hand. She grasps him about the wrist, draws his palm away from where has been clutching at her hips and her back and her waist, to guide him down between their bodies.
"Touch me here," she breathes. "I want to come with you."
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To know her. What a heady thing to consider. Later, she can decide whether or not it's something to worry over or not. Right now, there is a shivery laugh, right against his mouth, that melts into a fractured, gasping moan for the feeling of his fingers on her skin and the movement of his hips.
"You're so good," she tells him again, voice thick and honeyed over the words. Her hands have tightened in his hair, clinging on as she repeats up against his mouth, "You're so good, Loxley."
Words that will need to stand in for all other things. She'll trip over herself if she tries to tell him.
It is with great effort that she untangles her fingers from his hair to reach down and find his hand. She grasps him about the wrist, draws his palm away from where has been clutching at her hips and her back and her waist, to guide him down between their bodies.
"Touch me here," she breathes. "I want to come with you."