[ clarisse pushes herself up onto her knees instead of leaning back on them, giving luke a little room to breathe before her hand dives downward, shoving past coarse fabric and elastic into coarse hair and luke. she squeezes hard, but that's all she does before she removes her hand and grinds down into him one more time, grinning wickedly. if he thinks this isn't going to her head, he's dead wrong. ]
I think that can be arranged.
[ she wanted to say something like you can get me off, but she settles for that instead. she's never been a huge fan of dirty talk, anyway; she doesn't want to end up sounding like an amateur porn star. she has more dignity than that.
she pulls his face to meet hers, her lips crashing into his once again, though not as violently as before, and she doesn't break it, doesn't breathe, until she's dragging her teeth across his bottom lip as she pushes herself off of him — only this time she actually removes herself from his lap fully, crawling over him to splay herself on his bed. his shirt is still half hanging onto her, loose fitting on her arms, but she likes it that way. she wants to keep some part of it on her, so when she returns it to him it won't be his anymore, but his with her scent on it, of pine and sweat and sex. ]
Come on, Castellan, it's not like we have all day.
[ except they do, and she could do this all night. she beckons him with a wave of her fingers, as if she's curling them around some invisible rope that's attached to him which will pull him back over to her. ]
no subject
I think that can be arranged.
[ she wanted to say something like you can get me off, but she settles for that instead. she's never been a huge fan of dirty talk, anyway; she doesn't want to end up sounding like an amateur porn star. she has more dignity than that.
she pulls his face to meet hers, her lips crashing into his once again, though not as violently as before, and she doesn't break it, doesn't breathe, until she's dragging her teeth across his bottom lip as she pushes herself off of him — only this time she actually removes herself from his lap fully, crawling over him to splay herself on his bed. his shirt is still half hanging onto her, loose fitting on her arms, but she likes it that way. she wants to keep some part of it on her, so when she returns it to him it won't be his anymore, but his with her scent on it, of pine and sweat and sex. ]
Come on, Castellan, it's not like we have all day.
[ except they do, and she could do this all night. she beckons him with a wave of her fingers, as if she's curling them around some invisible rope that's attached to him which will pull him back over to her. ]