[He hesitates only briefly, but that moment of hesitation means her mouth is back on his before he can reply with words, and the rock of her hips means that his groan of approval answers for him. Subconsciously, his own struggle to rise and meet her's, and his grip grows tighter on her for it. He massages at her chest with one hand and grabs for her thigh again with the other, this time on the inside instead of the out. He can barely squeeze his fingers between them, but he cannot help wanting to explore there further the more she rubs against him.
When she finally pulls away from his lips, his face has flushed down to his chest, the already thin and threadbare shirt sticking to his chest thanks to the sweat that had formed there.]
I -- want you to touch me.
[It's vulnerable and raw, like he fears being so naked with his own sudden and overwhelming desire. But he is also hot, and aching, and it feels like he might never get enough air again.]
no subject
When she finally pulls away from his lips, his face has flushed down to his chest, the already thin and threadbare shirt sticking to his chest thanks to the sweat that had formed there.]
I -- want you to touch me.
[It's vulnerable and raw, like he fears being so naked with his own sudden and overwhelming desire. But he is also hot, and aching, and it feels like he might never get enough air again.]