[she kind of hates the barriers too, but going any further is different from just kissing, isn't it? and here, she can quietly recall the taste of him, her other hand going softly over his shoulder, and to the nape of his neck, pulling herself closer to him, even as her hand tangles in his hair.
it's a lot to drink in. and then she pulls back just slightly, lightly pulling at his lower lip. her hand on his abdomen searches for his, so she can pull him with her, back to her bed.
it's different than just kissing. but she doesn't want to just not be clear about what she wants.]
[her hand at the nape of his neck sends another shiver down his spine, and his arm curls slowly, almost possessively, around her waist. he can feel the warmth of her body underneath the nightgown, and something-- something about that sends his heart racing against his ribs]
[he's distracted when she pulls back, eyes dark and hazy, expression slack like he wasn't quite prepared for her to go. but before he can protest. . . she takes her hand in his own and tugs him towards the bed]
[and all Mars can do-- all he wants to do-- is follow]
[she pulls him in with her, falling back, and grabbing his arm lightly to pull him with her. though her eyes are still staring up, intently. But her entire body feels flushed in that moment, everything way too light.
and then, she softly grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting at it lightly, seeing what he lets her do.]
[he topples onto the bed with her, no resistance in his actions at all. though he does catch himself by his elbows so he's arched over her. on instinct, he dips his head, ready to kiss her again. . . though he stops when her fingers curl into his shirt, swallowing thickly]
[he wiggles to make shedding his shirt much easier, and as soon as it's gone? he gladly leans into her, shivering as her hands brush against warm, exposed skin]
[he meets her halfway in the kiss, no longer hesitant, giving just as good as he is getting. the way she feels pressed against him is almost sinful, and a pleased noise rumbles in his throat as his hands wander across her hips]
[her breach catches for a moment, and she pulls him closer. her hand goes back to his hair, tangling at the nape of his neck. while her other hand drops and then slowly trails along the line of his neck, and finally ends up resting on his chest.
sneaking a feel-- or maybe adding another point of connection for them both.]
[that is more than okay by him. . . his own hands are still exploring on their own, dipping past her hips and to the outsides of her thighs, seeking out the hem of her nightgown so he can bundle it up just below her waist as he kisses her]
[she's still decent, but-- his hands itch to pull up the nightgown even more, to expose even more of her, to explore as much of her as she'll let him. but without explicit permission, he remains respectful]
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it's a lot to drink in. and then she pulls back just slightly, lightly pulling at his lower lip. her hand on his abdomen searches for his, so she can pull him with her, back to her bed.
it's different than just kissing. but she doesn't want to just not be clear about what she wants.]
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[he's distracted when she pulls back, eyes dark and hazy, expression slack like he wasn't quite prepared for her to go. but before he can protest. . . she takes her hand in his own and tugs him towards the bed]
[and all Mars can do-- all he wants to do-- is follow]
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and then, she softly grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting at it lightly, seeing what he lets her do.]
Hey...
[softly]
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[he is not about to stop her]
. . . hey. . .
[equally as soft, and a little hoarse]
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[she tugs lightly at his shirt]
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Yeah. Of course. I'm not-- going to say no.
[he sits up a bit so she can tug off his shirt with more ease]
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and then she puts her arms over his shoulders, and pulls him back down into that kiss that got interrupted. by her. she's very sorry for that.]
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[he meets her halfway in the kiss, no longer hesitant, giving just as good as he is getting. the way she feels pressed against him is almost sinful, and a pleased noise rumbles in his throat as his hands wander across her hips]
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sneaking a feel-- or maybe adding another point of connection for them both.]
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[she's still decent, but-- his hands itch to pull up the nightgown even more, to expose even more of her, to explore as much of her as she'll let him. but without explicit permission, he remains respectful]
[. . . somewhat]