She's not sure what she wants. To cry, or laugh, or rip holes in his shirt with her nails just to get a hand on his skin again. She's full of emotions that pull her in a thousand directions. But what she does know is that whatever they pick, she wants to be with him.
"I'm yours," she pants along the line of his throat, between hot kisses that are anything but hesitant or shy. Her instincts tell her to nip at him, taste him with her tongue, find a spot and suck until it turns red and leaves a mark. She supposes that's plain enough evidence. She's decided.
She lifts her head from the curve of his throat, bringing a hand to slide behind his neck, into his hair, and hold him so she can meet his eyes. So he can see she means what she's going to say.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-09-25 04:37 am (UTC)"I'm yours," she pants along the line of his throat, between hot kisses that are anything but hesitant or shy. Her instincts tell her to nip at him, taste him with her tongue, find a spot and suck until it turns red and leaves a mark. She supposes that's plain enough evidence. She's decided.
She lifts her head from the curve of his throat, bringing a hand to slide behind his neck, into his hair, and hold him so she can meet his eyes. So he can see she means what she's going to say.
"I'm ready."