[He hasn't yet considered that it might be a dream. So when he reaches the collar line of her shirt, he falters, afraid to go farther - lingers there instead, pressing soft kisses to the hollow of her throat before he begins to work back up her neck on the other side, giving it the same attention.]
[The way she's squirming is extremely difficult not to notice; the way she presses them closer even more so. He shudders, hard, aware of her heat and her motion - aware that he's making her squirm. There is something very, very appealing about the thought that he's making her feel that good.]
[His breath catches in his throat, a little; the hand on her hip shifts downward, restless, to trace the line of her thigh.]
[It's - a lot of bare skin, frankly. More bare skin than he'd been counting on, thanks to how little that skirt covers, and his face flushes darker still, but he doesn't take his hand back.]
no subject
[The way she's squirming is extremely difficult not to notice; the way she presses them closer even more so. He shudders, hard, aware of her heat and her motion - aware that he's making her squirm. There is something very, very appealing about the thought that he's making her feel that good.]
[His breath catches in his throat, a little; the hand on her hip shifts downward, restless, to trace the line of her thigh.]
[It's - a lot of bare skin, frankly. More bare skin than he'd been counting on, thanks to how little that skirt covers, and his face flushes darker still, but he doesn't take his hand back.]