You do not have to. [ as she, too, puts her mouth to his neck. over that wound, congealed crimson pearls that dissolve under her tongue. a thoughtful sort of kiss. maybe the ghost of a sting, but the force of earlier is absent. ] Is it not pleasant for you to remain this way?
[ and she wiggles again to confirm it. she can feel him there, that presence at her opening, even if he doesn't fill her out inside at this point. there is the erotic even in this, and beyond that... there is comfort.
[Connected. A feeling that he is more than happy to cultivate, the very thing he yearns for the most. The void she fills; of course he'll do the same.]
[ and that's a squirm, too, for good measure. all the way through her belly and exhibiting in actual motion, too. she gasps and turns her face blindly towards his mouth, lips already parted, to seek her promised kissing. more. more like that.
her hands drift down and grip his backside, which is already bared to the room, but the way she takes each cheek in hand is much more reminiscent of how Henry was holding her earlier. ]
[She can grip and cup his backside as much as she likes. In fact, it urges Henry to press his weight a little more against her, his hips especially, as though to seam them permanently together in that way she likes so much. Connected.
He meets her lips with his own, eager and curved with a smile. Mouth already slotting open to meet her tongue.
This feeling, right now, is nothing short of pure content.]
these kisses are slow and seeking, not urgent. a little tongue, now and then, sliding along his lower lip and beneath his own, tasting salt and saliva and bringing it back into her own mouth. Sprezzatura peeks beneath her lashes, exhales, closes her eyes again. maybe kneads just so. one kiss ends and into the next. ]
[Kisses that take their time, that are in no hurry to connect with the next. Henry revels in each one, tilting his head to angle each one deeper, but not hastily. A soft exhale through his nose, perfectly happy.
He could go a lifetime of kissing her, and it still would never feel like enough. One hand trails up, cups at the back of her neck, long fingers slipping into her hair.]
[ shivery approval—goosebumps on her nape. she pulls from the kiss with a wet sound, pecks his bottom lip, turns her face, sinks in again. it could be said this is her favorite part of any intimate encounter. it's when she feels most wanted.
softly against Henry's mouth: ] Don't change anything...
[ her own hands abandon him to fumble through her blouse buttons instead. there are so many. ]
[So many buttons, as if she means to torture him. He murmurs, too, against her mouth, as he continues to provide her with the kisses she loves so much. Soft, pliant, warm.]
But you're going to tempt me to.
[To kiss her chest instead if she manages to get her blouse open. booba]
[ mmm... Mammon... that cannot be a comfortable angle for a man as lithe as him, so she melts herself back against the couch cushions and allows the angle of her body to weigh itself more wholly onto his tender cock. a more open angle for him to lean.
threading fingers into his hair. ]
Henry... [ slowly, like she's feeling out her own request as she's making it ] Bite my nipples.
Though this does make it easier, so that when she lies back, he can straighten his body practically parallel with hers. But lowered enough that he has her face right against her chest, nigh pillowed.
Looks up at her with those big blue eyes upon hearing that request.]
Whatever you want. [But, since he does get the sense that she's feeling out her own request...] Gently at first.
[She’s trying, for his sake. Because she knows he enjoys it. And something about that squeezes his chest, in that painful-pleasurable way which encompasses the feeling of love.]
I’m happy that you want to.
[And he’ll not drag her willingness out. Henry dips down faintly lower, until he can seal his lips over one nipple, wet and swirling his tongue around it. The line of his teeth, just a suggestion for now, is still a contrast against the warmth and softness.
[ Henry's lips are so soft. that tiny cupid's bow in his lower lip; how plush they both are. she has the prettiest man alive in her pocket. ]
S-Sentimental man. [ and she likes to look at his face, and she likes to watch him kiss her. she can see the sliver of her nipple here and again as he sucks, and that glimpse is pretty, too. ] You are lucky we want so many same things.
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I want to. It’s not a complaint, Sprezzatura. Of course it’s pleasant.
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You really enjoy it like this, don't you?
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[ and she wiggles again to confirm it. she can feel him there, that presence at her opening, even if he doesn't fill her out inside at this point. there is the erotic even in this, and beyond that... there is comfort.
flexing her fingers at his clothed back... ]
Connected...
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Always.
[And forever.
Nibble-kisses her earlobe. :) ]
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her hands drift down and grip his backside, which is already bared to the room, but the way she takes each cheek in hand is much more reminiscent of how Henry was holding her earlier. ]
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He meets her lips with his own, eager and curved with a smile. Mouth already slotting open to meet her tongue.
This feeling, right now, is nothing short of pure content.]
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these kisses are slow and seeking, not urgent. a little tongue, now and then, sliding along his lower lip and beneath his own, tasting salt and saliva and bringing it back into her own mouth. Sprezzatura peeks beneath her lashes, exhales, closes her eyes again. maybe kneads just so. one kiss ends and into the next. ]
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He could go a lifetime of kissing her, and it still would never feel like enough. One hand trails up, cups at the back of her neck, long fingers slipping into her hair.]
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[ shivery approval—goosebumps on her nape. she pulls from the kiss with a wet sound, pecks his bottom lip, turns her face, sinks in again. it could be said this is her favorite part of any intimate encounter. it's when she feels most wanted.
softly against Henry's mouth: ] Don't change anything...
[ her own hands abandon him to fumble through her blouse buttons instead. there are so many. ]
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But you're going to tempt me to.
[To kiss her chest instead if she manages to get her blouse open. booba]
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You are like little babe, how desperately you long to be at my breast.
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Isn’t that a compliment?
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Eat up.
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No bra?]
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still.... Sprezzatura appreciates that lowered glance. feels titillating to know he likes to look. ]
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His hands smooth up her back and rest atop her shoulders, anchoring as he dips down. Brushes his lips against the top swell of a breast, fond.]
Beautiful. As always.
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threading fingers into his hair. ]
Henry... [ slowly, like she's feeling out her own request as she's making it ] Bite my nipples.
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Though this does make it easier, so that when she lies back, he can straighten his body practically parallel with hers. But lowered enough that he has her face right against her chest, nigh pillowed.
Looks up at her with those big blue eyes upon hearing that request.]
Whatever you want. [But, since he does get the sense that she's feeling out her own request...] Gently at first.
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[ the parts he has to restrain. now and then. ]
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It doesn't bother you?
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I’m happy that you want to.
[And he’ll not drag her willingness out. Henry dips down faintly lower, until he can seal his lips over one nipple, wet and swirling his tongue around it. The line of his teeth, just a suggestion for now, is still a contrast against the warmth and softness.
Telepathy:]
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S-Sentimental man. [ and she likes to look at his face, and she likes to watch him kiss her. she can see the sliver of her nipple here and again as he sucks, and that glimpse is pretty, too. ] You are lucky we want so many same things.
[ thank goodness Henry Creel is a boobs man ]
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