[ her fingers in his hair elicits a hum from him, low and long in his throat. with his mouth against her breast, maybe she can feel it. a part of bellamy hopes she can, if only for the sake of it being simply poetic to him. she gets his heart beating faster than a pod hurtling to earth from space, and so he wants her to feel her own jump at the sensation, if there's any way he can penetrate the surface of her at all to embed a tremor within her. ]
[ he doesn't stay where he is, though. kissing the swell of her breast, he moves, descending slowly down the length of her to her torso. with a hand on her hip, he curls his fingers into the bone, kneading the skin there momentarily before his fingers still. bellamy knows he can move faster, but he chooses not to. there's no rush, and there never seems to be in eudio. he can take his time, be as slow as he wants, as thorough as he pleases, and know that there won't be an ambush of grounders breaking the gates around their camp. it's still new to him, not being consistently on alert for it. ]
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[ he doesn't stay where he is, though. kissing the swell of her breast, he moves, descending slowly down the length of her to her torso. with a hand on her hip, he curls his fingers into the bone, kneading the skin there momentarily before his fingers still. bellamy knows he can move faster, but he chooses not to. there's no rush, and there never seems to be in eudio. he can take his time, be as slow as he wants, as thorough as he pleases, and know that there won't be an ambush of grounders breaking the gates around their camp. it's still new to him, not being consistently on alert for it. ]