[How assuredly he declared his previous statement–I’ve been witness to what’s beneath already—without taking into consideration the wildly differing context. This is not him finding a horned stranger in a nightgown beneath his windowsill, accosted by panic. No, this is... definitely not that.
He is painfully aware of just how gauzy that material is as she straddles him, as though his coat had completely shrouded her warmth which has now been given free rein to exude outwards. Precisely where she touches him. His gaze slips down her into form, reaffirming what he already knew to be true. Ms Sapione has been blessed by many curves.
Which means he's even more aware of the closeness of her chest as she leans down to kiss him. He meets her eagerly, with a bit of a humming noise in his throat, feeling impossible hot in the face and immediately lacing his fingers behind her neck again, as though to default to what he knows she likes.]
no subject
He is painfully aware of just how gauzy that material is as she straddles him, as though his coat had completely shrouded her warmth which has now been given free rein to exude outwards. Precisely where she touches him. His gaze slips down her into form, reaffirming what he already knew to be true. Ms Sapione has been blessed by many curves.
Which means he's even more aware of the closeness of her chest as she leans down to kiss him. He meets her eagerly, with a bit of a humming noise in his throat, feeling impossible hot in the face and immediately lacing his fingers behind her neck again, as though to default to what he knows she likes.]