[The way she's looking at him... it's thrilling. A jolt of lust runs through him when Dorothea tips him back onto the mattress. She looks like she's been lost in the desert and he's an oasis. As though he's the answer to everything she wants. It's embarrassing. He also likes it.]
Cute?
[Linhardt gasps the word; it's the most he can accomplish with those infuriatingly deft hands, that mouth with just enough bite to it for each sensation to be new and wanted.]
Cute is new. Oh Goddess...
[He can't help but close his eyes when Dorothea welcomes him; she's warm and tight and wonderful; it's as though he has a lightning rod between his legs, but it's sending the energy all throughout his body. Linhardt's hands find her hips in answer to her question.]
Yes. Yes, more.
[It's somewhere between a request and a demand, and Linhardt leans up to press their lips together. Always more. One hand curves around her hip and dips between her legs. There's a spot women have... it's always slightly different (which is fascinating). There. Linhardt's fingers stroke the pleasure-spot experimentally, breaking the kiss so he can breathe.]
no subject
Cute?
[Linhardt gasps the word; it's the most he can accomplish with those infuriatingly deft hands, that mouth with just enough bite to it for each sensation to be new and wanted.]
Cute is new. Oh Goddess...
[He can't help but close his eyes when Dorothea welcomes him; she's warm and tight and wonderful; it's as though he has a lightning rod between his legs, but it's sending the energy all throughout his body. Linhardt's hands find her hips in answer to her question.]
Yes. Yes, more.
[It's somewhere between a request and a demand, and Linhardt leans up to press their lips together. Always more. One hand curves around her hip and dips between her legs. There's a spot women have... it's always slightly different (which is fascinating). There. Linhardt's fingers stroke the pleasure-spot experimentally, breaking the kiss so he can breathe.]
More is good.