[ Up until now, Eustace has never really wondered what Ilsa might look like underneath that (admittedly revealing) uniform of hers. That way lies madness, and also probably her twin pistols aimed directly at his dick. He has certainly never wondered what it would be like to touch her and kiss her like this, but somehow he guesses any fantasy he would have entertained would have paled in comparison to the real thing. No doubt a lot of his intoxication's fueled by whatever's floating in the air, but there's also no questioning the goosebumps that follow the path of her hands down his back, or the way her soft breaths send desire spiking further through his body.
But he's not so far gone that he doesn't notice the way her fingers linger at his hips, holding back rather than pushing forward. Maybe it wouldn't be so strange for any other person, but this is Ilsa standing before him, who he's pretty sure would charge towards the Devil himself without an ounce of hesitation once if she needed to. Indecision has never been her style.
Pulling away, he peers down at her. ]
Do you want to stop?
[ It would be—disappointing, to say the least, to have to stop now, but without question he would rather be stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day than force himself on her. ]
no subject
But he's not so far gone that he doesn't notice the way her fingers linger at his hips, holding back rather than pushing forward. Maybe it wouldn't be so strange for any other person, but this is Ilsa standing before him, who he's pretty sure would charge towards the Devil himself without an ounce of hesitation once if she needed to. Indecision has never been her style.
Pulling away, he peers down at her. ]
Do you want to stop?
[ It would be—disappointing, to say the least, to have to stop now, but without question he would rather be stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day than force himself on her. ]