[ Her lashes flutter as a feral, catlike noise comes out of her, some prolonged and keening sound that is cousin to a moan but too primal and honest to form into anything so well-polished. Kira's hips twitch, rutting into the touch of his hand in shameless spite of the flush in her cheeks and just how damp her underwear has become.
It's sweet and satisfying and just what she wants, but she's sure he can feel it. At least, it feels like her pants are damp too. That thought gets her eyes to open, her head to turn just so. She pulls back enough to try and get a look at his eyes, to see if he has found her out. As if before, it had been any secret her lust for him, and he has picked up on some carpet fiber to prove her guilt now.
She gets one hand up around his throat then, just touching, caressing, not gripping. But the threat of it remains, a steady reminder. ]
What makes you think you need to check on me? [ He looks just as tousled and frayed as she suspects she does. It's a good look, she decides as she scrutinizes him. ] What makes you think I could not make you stop?
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It's sweet and satisfying and just what she wants, but she's sure he can feel it. At least, it feels like her pants are damp too. That thought gets her eyes to open, her head to turn just so. She pulls back enough to try and get a look at his eyes, to see if he has found her out. As if before, it had been any secret her lust for him, and he has picked up on some carpet fiber to prove her guilt now.
She gets one hand up around his throat then, just touching, caressing, not gripping. But the threat of it remains, a steady reminder. ]
What makes you think you need to check on me? [ He looks just as tousled and frayed as she suspects she does. It's a good look, she decides as she scrutinizes him. ] What makes you think I could not make you stop?